


I am NOT just a girl to Protect

by Gavorchesan



Series: Madara Uchiha [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Hate, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 93,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavorchesan/pseuds/Gavorchesan
Summary: Devastatingly beautiful, with brothers who are perhaps strongest Shinobi in the world, Sayuriama Senju is a force of reckoning. With everything at her fingertips she finally discovers the one thing she can not have; A dark eyed Uchiha who refuses to play by the rules. He’ll teach her how playing with fire will get her burned.In the process of building a village, clan treaties and trust issues, she finds that loyalty is something that can not be bargained on; Would she choose everything that makes her who she is, or him? Madara Uchiha x OC





	1. Scroll 1

**Author's Note:**

> Review are always kind, and help speed up the writer ;)

**Scroll 1**

Hashirama Senju stood at the new makeshift gates of Konoha, in the pouring rain. He could feel the nervous energy of his brother, Tobirama- the impatience he was struggling with, the way his violet eyes flickered in distrust It was very early in the morning, cold and brisk, but both were full of strange feelings. Hardly able to control their excitement, as a matter of fact.

The dark haired, older, Hashirama smiled. It was going to be a good day, despite the strain and caution experience told him to take. The instincts that Tobirama too often let guide him and make him nervous. But Hashirama couldn’t bear to let his happiness be overtaken by fear. He tilted his head, musing.

 

How long had it been? Five years? No, far longer.

 

Ten.

 

Ten long years since they had been forced to leave their young sister in the care of their allies, the  Uzumaki Clan. Five years since he had seen her. He was careful to write we he could, but it was still not enough, and even Tobirama’s ability to gain spy intel had been limited. With two of the three Senju sibling dead, he didn’t dare take a misstep, or reveal her to an enemy clan- Neither he nor Tobirama could bear the thought of her dead. His battles had been fierce, and the longing for the youngest Senju hard, but now, it seems as his hopes had finally come to fruition. The treaty between the Uchiha and Senju firm, their village of Konohagakure created, there was nothing stopping him from bringing his sister home.

Still, he did have some reservations.

In the treeline, quickly getting closer, he suddenly caught the flicker of movement. A few moments later, he saw the first horse, followed by others. The battle experienced heart of the Great Hashirama Senju seemed to quiver, as if in terrible anticipation. He turned to Tobirama, noticing their similar faces, both tired and worn, was full of constrained feeling. Tobirama’s hands were behind his back, attempting keep the slight shaking from being too obvious.

It was a raining, which probably didn’t help his mood either. But neither wanted to wait at the gate of _The Village Hidden in the Leaves._ Hashirama smiled at Tobirama’s already white hair, plastered to the metal headband he always wore- The one their deceased mother gave him, Hashirama noted with a pang.

The moisture had soaked both of them and it would have been rather comedic, Hashirama thought for any other ninja to see them nervous, like a wet cat. as them standing in the grey air. Yet, inside, he knew they both had a glimmer of hope, like they may have just conquered the world. The elder, a full grin, and the younger a more subtle one.

They were both in their simple wear, dark kimono. Red, in Hashirama case, or blue, in Tobirama. They didn’t want to draw too much attention to themselves, but they still wanted to be easily seen by the Uzumaki envoy.

“How long Hashirama?” Tobirama turned to him, wiping the rain out of his eyes, his hand brushing against the metal forehead guard, eyes flashing. His hair which had turned white early made him look older, but it was clear Hashirama was the leader in the pair. Not that Tobirama minded. He liked his brother as the figurehead, and working under his guidance. It left him time to do his pet projects- adding stability and organization to the village.

Hashirama smiled, tearing his dark chocolate eyes away from the distant horses quickly approaching.

He had arranged this meeting at dawn, and had only brought Tobirama since he knew that his brother would be very unhappy to not come. He wanted the long awaited family reunion to be special, as it had been simply _too long_ since the remaining Senju family was complete.

Also, if the _rumours_ about his sister were true, it would be best to be safe then stupid.

“It’s been ten years since we saw Sayuriama hasn’t it? Or maybe I should call her _Sayurimaru_ , since that’s what the Uzumaki clan have been calling her, apparently.” Tobirama said, the irony thick in his voice. Hashirama grinned at his sister’s nickname.

“Lily spirit?” Hashirama asked his brother, in reference to the new name. Tobirama gave a look as if there was nothing more ridiculous in the world, and Hashirama had to admit it was fairly  fantastical. The name was very unusual in reference to their young sister, a feisty, angry little girl that rarely took baths and liked sharp knifes.

“They say,” Tobirama continued, with a smirk, “ that Sayuriama is a heavenly beauty- That even the spirit of beauty in the next world bows for her.” Hashirama couldn’t help but laugh.

“Heavenly? Little Sayuriama?”

Tobirama smirked as he thought of the mischievous little brat. Hashirama grinned, nodded with him. It was a strange thought. It would be more as if her playful personality would tire the spirits so they would collapse from exhaustion.

“Apparently the Gods' replaced any battle skill with absurd beauty. That’s what the letter was referring too, anyhow.” Tobirama laughed aloud, the red marks on his face stretching into the familiar smile lines.”Which may be true.”

Hashirama crossed his arms, looking at the ever encroaching group. “When you said beauty before, I thought that they were sending the ghost of her, because they killed her from annoyance. But if the letter said that, then maybe they’re actually sending her. ” It was sort of a joke between the brothers (though no one else in the Senju clan would ever joining in) that Sayuriama had about zero ability to fighting. She could occasionally run, but more often than not, she’d trip before the tenth step. Hashirama wondered if the Uzumaki would have been able to help at all.

Probably not. She was really, quite bad at anything to do with fighting. She had almost managed to take _them_ out. AS AN accident. She was inadvertently deadly. After one particular incident including expensive porcelain and a few fires, the clan had been ordered by his Father to not her near any form of dangerous material. She was furious, and it had been embarrassing.

 It still caused chuckles through the Senju halls, after the initial devastation was dealt with, but Hashirama was still fond of her. Regardless of the constant teasing, there were few people held higher esteem in the Senju brothers’ eyes than the precious Senju sister. What she didn’t have in ability, she had in spirit. Her short letter were full of life and longing.

The last week had been, distracting, and rather hellish, the waiting for this morning, the letters the Uzumaki sent by falcon to assure that they were fine.

Hashirama trust himself to do any ninjutsu, for fear his enthusiasm would break open, and there would be trees were there ought not to be. They both decided not to use any ninjutsu, and to wait in the cold morning rain, so they wouldn’t attract very much attention.

But, to _not_ be noticed was a little far stretched being the founders of the hidden leaf Village.

Hashirama wondered, a little dryly, how Madara Uchiha was doing, trying to convince the Daimyo of the Land of Fire to support their village. Everything a clan head did was noted, and he knew Madara was not a patient man when it came to negotiation.

But Hashirama was beginning to think he wasn’t either.

But he did at least try.

He hoped Madara was doing the same.

The brothers might have been more careful if they paid enough attention to note the sentry was Hayo Uchiha. Capable of using the Sharingan.

 

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sentry, high on the wood wall, that morning happened to be an Uchiha- Hayo Uchiha- also known as the two second Uchiha spy. 

He was leaning gratefully, in the typical Uchiha stance, under a thick wooden veranda. Usually an early morning post was nothing to be envious about, but this morning he was not in the least bit bored. After all, it wasn’t often the Senju brother were in easy eyesight, obviously flustered and nervous. The Uchiha blessing- the Sharingan, was not fooled. He saw the rush of Chakra in Tobirama Senju, the larger than average smile Hashirama Senju had. And with Madara not supposed to be back, it made him rather curious. What were the Senju up too? Hayo was not high in the Uchiha ranks, but Madara had chosen him as an assistant of sorts, so he wasn’t too dumb.

The brothers obviously knew he was there, on top of that great wall Hashirama had created, but they hadn’t dismissed him, so they must not have cared what he saw. They didn’t come here often to greet returning warrior, unless they were worried about them.

Hayo continued to watch, even more curious when he saw horses in the distance. An envoy the Uchiha weren’t aware off? Strange that Hashirama hadn’t mentioned anything to Madara, since the Senju leader was determined to built trust between the clans. Hayo was just confident and curious enough to dare tune in. After all, he was very good at lip reading- it was his specialty.

Hayo had his Sharingan activated, and was hanging onto every word, but he was surprised by the news. It didn’t surprise him that Uzumaki clan envoys were coming- he figured they were long overdue. But- the great Senju brothers had another sibling?

What more, a _sister_?

When the clans had still been at war, they had mused at the idea, as the brother were always sending messages, but there had never been clear evidence, or a way to prove such speculation. He had heard all the Senju siblings had died.

Hayo shrugged, and walked forward across the walk to get a better look at the approaching clan. Previously dots in the rain, they had gradually formed into a small caravan. They were on horses, but the gait was casual, and they seemed in no hurry. The dark blue cloaks covered them, keeping them warm. She must not have been a ninja to be hidden away so well.

His eyes counted five in the group, seemed there was two women, smaller looking- one with almost no Chakra. The two woman were in the middle of three men. Everyone in the group had phenomenal signature except the smallest figure, making Hayo raise an eyebrow. It was unheard in the Senju, to have a member with no chakra. The group had come close and once again had caught the brother’s attention. Hashirama and Tobirama had apparently decided that the group was close enough, and Hashirama performed a hand sign. Wood shot out from the ground and the company had a temporary shelter over the top of them.

Hayo looked in admiration- the Lord Hashirama was amazing. One sign and he made a virtual veranda, and with no obvious effort, or chakra expenditure.

The Uzumaki group and the brothers came together, and after a quick recognition test, came forward. They exchanged greetings and such, then they dismounted the tired looking horses. The Uzumaki group took off their thick cloaks, and Hayo noticed all but one had the signature flaming red hair.

And it was that one, the girl with the long dark hair and no chakra, that caught his attention and held it.

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hashirama and Tobirama looked with vagrant disbelief that didn’t fit, as the dark haired girl let her hood slip. As cheeky as most of the letters had been, it was thought to be a joke. The dark haired girl slipped forward, and was barely caught by the brothers, one arm by each.

It was Sayuriama who hugged both of them even when they were sopping wet, with tears running down her face. Her grin lit up the morning, and if by cue, a sunbeam pierced the cloudy day, hitting them, her face suddenly spotlighted.

As the sunlight shone, the brothers likely made similar discoveries and deductions.

Sayuriama thick dark hair was similar to Hashirama’s, but had a shine and flow that his never would. That same glorious hair was framing a slightly wet face, pale as Tobirama. Her violet eyes seemed to tease at blue and red, but fit with exotic eyes framed by thick lashes, untouched by koal or makeup. Generous lips smirked, creating the most adorable dimple’s that the Senju all had, and well as a similar, but perfect nose. A long swan neck tilted that exquisite face, and the cloak hit most, but not all, of a figure that was slim, but lovely.

Similar features that made her Senju, but now these features transformed into the build of the most beautiful women either brother had ever seen. Tobirama opened his mouth, knowing that this was not good.

Hashirama gave an awkward laugh.

The Uzumaki group smiled at the reunion, and a wave of relief hit them, as opposed the the worry that was just beginning to dawn on the brothers.

They knew that the Senju sister must have been a surprise. Every single person thought that they wouldn’t be shocked at her beauty. Without fail, they were. No doubt they would be floored when she actually did her when she hadn’t been traveling.

            And better yet, she _wasn’t their responsibility anymore._ The leader of the mission, the old man of the group, about died in peace right then.

Then when the village saw her, the Senju brothers would get to fight the marriage proposals, the attempted kidnappings, and fickle moods.

It was like a breath of fresh air not having to protect such a person.

One that the brothers would not have for a long time. Sayuriama stepped aside, letting Hashirama move forward to greet the rest of the clan.

The other women, Mito Uzumaki, smiled at the reunited Senju clan. She had enjoyed the time with the silly girl, and had been one of the few earned her respect and confidence of the Senju sister. Though Mito was travel-worn, she was also lovely.

Hashirama looked up when she smiled, and he stared straight at her, arm around Sayuriama who was beaming at him and Tobirama.

 Mito smiled, and he gave a grin back, and in that moment Hashirama realized Mito was more beautiful than his unearthly sister, since his sister was of course, his sister. Mito had met Hashirama Senju few years ago, when their clans united, and he was a budding leader and fighter. She hadn’t forgotten how handsome and wonderful he was. Apparently he hadn’t forgotten her either.

Finally the old Uzumaki mission leader mentioned something about a chill, and the entire group proceeded into the grand village, towards the Senju compounds.

Hashirama attempted to talk business, but was getting more flustered by the two women that had suddenly re-entered his life. He had a feeling his world was about to get rocked. He knew it was over when he was told that Mito smiled and greeted him. And better yet, Mito would be staying as an emissary from Uzushiogakure, and had specifically asked for the mission. She adored Sayuriama, and was very fond of the Senju clan.

All of the guards that had come were happily married, and that was one of the biggest reasons they had been chosen. They couldn’t risk the pretty Sayuriama into an unmarried, or unhappy clan members. Even married, it had been hard for the happily married men not to stare at her, and when she wanted to be charming, they were lucky Mito was there. Sayuriama was practically forced to keep her hood on whenever she was outside. She was not happy about it either.

Sayuriama talked Tobirama’s ear off, often holding his arm and blushing. He even smiled back at the silly girl.

They passed many temporary residences, tents and weak wooden structures. As they got further in the group admired the more stable structures, and nothing gave both brother more pride then the lovely girls sighing in wonderment at the Senju compound, the unique wooden residence.

It was a strange dream in the misty rainy morning.

Sayuriama looked to Hashirama, clearly already swooning over Mito. She smiled, then looked to Tobirama. He turned to her, giving her a small smile, already used to her face.

“I missed you, Tobirama.” His eyes widened, then his small smile widened into a rare, content one. She squeezed his side, and he put an arm around her.

“Glad you’re here too.”

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Hayo was frozen on the top of the lookout. He didn’t know whether he had been put under a Genjutsu, seeing a spirit, or seeing a real woman. The red head women had been attractive, but the Senju sister?

No doubt this was Amaterasu, goddess that shines in heaven, returning to her home. Hayo put a hand through his dark hair, realized that he was sweating. The Senju Uchiha Alliance had defiantly been a good move for all single Uchiha men.

 

 


	2. Scroll 2

 

**Scroll 2**

 There were three things the legendary Madara Uchiha absolutely loathed.

 

The first would be long trips to places, not getting anything accomplished, and not doing any worth battling. Ironically he’d been working on the Jutsu for traveling, but had been rudely interrupted for this ‘trip’ before he finished it.

And he just happened to just spend the last month accomplishing absolutely nothing. If Hashirama hadn’t asked him specifically to go impress the fire Daimyo, the ‘benefactor’ of the new leaf village, making several necessary and important promises, he probably would have had _flipped_ the rich old man off a cliff with a sword through his belly. God, the man was irritating and useless.

The second would happen to be that _very man who sent him off_ to this God forsaken mission. It would be a lie to say Madara didn’t respect Hashirama Senju, but that’s where it stopped. He couldn’t stand the thought of the Senju brothers running Konoha without a strong Uchiha voice. No one other than Madara Uchiha would dare reject any of the Senju brother’s ideas if they didn’t have to. Sure he was basically God to most ninja’s, but it sometimes seemed like his clan didn’t like him trying to get the Uchiha’s a say.

Not to mention the last fight he had actually fought with Hashirama ended with him, God forbid, losing. Uchihas didn’t lose, and Madara hadn’t forgotten that little fact. The memory of Izuna, his brother, was a constant reminder in the back of his head. He hated when the voiced whispered _failure_. His anger was constantly below the surface, ready to bubble up at the slightest provocation. A reckless soldier of the  Daimyo’s had gone a bit too far, and was quickly disposed of after, Setsuna and Saburo Uchiha, his ‘guards’  making sure the man would never be so disrespectful to the Uchiha again.

Last, but certainly not least, was when someone, knowing full well _he had just returned,_ and was damn tired, dared to wake him in his sleep _about the previous two loathed things_.

 

 

Madara couldn’t help go over these things as he slowly choked the life out of the man who infringed on number three.

If it hadn’t specifically been Hayo Uchiha, who he vexingly remembered had permission to disturb him in an emergency, who knows what kind of carnage would have come upon the Uchiha compound that day?

“This had better be an emergency.” He drawled coldly.

Hayo did gasp in relief as Madara let go, his body going to the wood floor. Madara sat on the wall at the back of his small bed, angrily looking down at his subordinate. With dismay Hayo noticed that Madara’s eyes were blood red, and not just from lack of sleep. Even though Hayo, like every Uchiha, were proud of their mastery over their Kekkei genkai, the Sharingan, Madara Uchiha was on a whole different level. It made him squirm as Madara stared him down. He looked away, scratching his dark head nervously. He bowed.

“Forgive me, Lord Uchiha.”

“Did I not _tell you_ that you should report to Saburo if you needed anything?”

“Yes, but he said I sho-” Madara raised a hand, cutting him off. Typical. He arched a mocking eyebrow.

“Get on with it.” Madara said, sick of waiting and being delayed his sleep. Madara could be a bit more patient, but he was very, very, tired, and very, very, angry. He hardly moved as he sat, keeping braced and restraining himself from murder.

“Lord Madara, the Lord Hashirama and Tobirama Senju wish to speak with you, as soon as morning comes. They wish to know-” Hayo looked up, cutting off cold from his report.

They called it the Mangekyo Sharingan, and Hayo had never had opportunity to see it up close, the red eyes. His mouth went dry as he got caught into the strange pattern. The promise of menace behind that look that was exclusively Madara Uchiha’s.

 

“Get out.” Madara said, breaking the spell.

 

In two seconds Hayo stumbled, than ran as fast as he could, pushing open the sliding door and going through. Madara jumped out of his black bed and went over to the door. He pushed it the rest of the way closed, realizing that Hayo had managed to slightly rip the screen in his rush to leave. Anger surged through him, like it did all the time now.

He walked over to inspect the damage. Even the little things his own clan did irritated him now.

Heh. He gave the door a sardonic look. He usually could work it off with a good battle, and even during those stupid practice training sessions with Hashirama managed to take off the edge. He hadn’t so much had the _time_ in three months to cure the edge of insatiable bloodlust that often pressed at him. And there was always _his_ voice, in the back of his head.

_Failure_

He was born to fight, not asked to go on ridiculous trips to talk to old men who couldn’t even  lift a sword. He gritted his teeth, and his palm clenched the doorframe.

The wood snapped in half cleanly, and with a resound crash the entire frame fell to the ground. The dark blue fabric, emblazoned with the Uchiha crest, ripped unceremoniously in half. Madara took a deep breath, the fabric of his shirt pulling tight across his broad chest. Old sweat mingled with new, and he whirled around angrily.

Loudly, and completely destroying his door may not have been the best idea, but no one would dare come to the end of the compound, to his residence, when he was in such a mood. The Uchiha’s were well aware of their temperamental leader.

He was the strongest of his clan, and even though he had been against the truce with the Senju, eventually he _did_ what his clan thought was the right direction. The wood cracked under his fingers.

 

The door no doubt would be completely fixed by the time he got home.

He narrowed his eyes, which slowly turned darker until they were black again. That was another thing, he thought. Here the clan felt required to do everything for him, as if they no trusted his ability to lead. He saw it, the way the humored him. 

He didn’t mind it the room cleaning the time, as he was still the clean leader. But it was the fact some of the men were beginning to think they knew _better_ then him bothered him. He’d warned the suspect several times that he would beat whoever went into his room black and blue, than send them to the front lines. Even still, he still noticed things moved from where he left them. He had immediately noticed the absence of dust in his room when he got home. Combined with Hayo jumping in and telling him that the Senju brothers had oh-so-politely had asked him to come in, at two am, and the fact someone had been in _his_ room made him create a new war.

He exhaled, fire running through him. His body screamed for sleep, and using the Mangekyo Sharingan, even just to scare the shit out of Hayo, was making him annoyingly tired. The mix of utter exhaustion and adrenaline was most displeasing. His darkening temper didn’t bode well for the rest of the room.

For some reason it make him think of his time with the older Senju embassy, that had accompanied him to the fire lord. Hashirama, that devil, probably did it on purpose, so Madara wouldn’t kill the Daimyo from annoyance. It unfortunately had worked, but the old fart had not decided. Madara had been _proud_ of his patience, and even he even thought he had managed to impress the old man Senju with his temperance. If the old man could have seen Madara now…

The only time Madara could let his own anger out was when he was asked to ‘perform’ his Sharingan on some of the guards. That was the most successful moment of the entire mission he thought smirking, thinking of the writhing guards on the floor. They had still been in comas when they left, leaving fear in the Daimyo’s eyes.

Right after that performance, the old man senju had drawn him aside.

To Madara’s dismay the old man had a long talk about controlling himself. It was the very end of the lecture that had caught Madara’s attention and stayed in his memory. He had been reliving the fight when the old man was talking, but when he had looked Madara straight in the eye, he started listening. Madara had raised an eyebrow at the man’s daring. Few men looked into an Uchiha’s eyes and lived.

They had just been served tea in their rooms, and Madara was about to take another sip of the warm brew, the only thing worthwhile the trip had been for.

“Madara, my boy, I think you could probably release that sexual tension if you get a wife.” The old man looked seriously at him, and sipped his tea, being careful not to spill on the table with his shaky hands.

Madara had almost choked and gasped for air. Just for a minute, of course. It more looked like he had just stopped hand, and lowered the teacup to the table. Did the old man _want_ to die? He set the tea down in his surprise fit, and put his arm over his mouth, to cough into. The old man didn’t pass a glance over the slight reaction, knowing full well he had his attention now.

“Heh. Is that right?” He said, sarcastic words laced with murderous intent. He was warning the old man, while he still had time.

“Typical virgin reaction. I was the same way when I was your age, boy. Thought I had the world at my fingers. Mind you, you do have the world at your fingers, but I think you’d be less stressed if you married a pretty little thing. I sure settled well. Women are demanding creatures, but I think you’d find a way to make that benefit you.”

Madara could hardly believe he had been pulled into such a conversation. He hadn’t thought about women for a long time, and his eyebrow raised as such an assumption. There was never a woman worthy enough to even catch his attention.

Sneering he stood, leaving the old Senju- heavily considering sending him to his deceased wife. The memory made him slightly ashamed. The old man had caught him off his guard completely. If he stayed, who knows what would have happened? It would have been a bigger disaster than the embassy. The old man might have started talking about his wedding or, Gods save him, his wedding night.

He sneered, the memory making him even more tired of all of this. Returning to the bed, he decided he might as well take off his shirt.

It had made him think of women, maybe for the first time in year.

He had managed to remove the armor before he fell into bed, his dark shirt a wrinkled mess. His blue pants had fared better, but would need some serious washing. Those came off also, and he took a long robe out of the closet. He glared, knowing he left it folded on the chair before he left. He pulled the dark blue material onto his toned upper body, and tied it at the waist, his lithe figure cutting a handsome figure.

His armor, bandage belt, sword, sickle and Gunbai lay on or near the desk. Madara’s personal room wasn’t that large, but it was usually incredibly tidy. When his domain, he would control all he could. He noticed almost anything that was out of place in his room.

Madara went back to the bed, and stretched himself over it.

 _If_ he got married, he would lose a piece of control, as even the most docile wives could be a pain in the ass. Difficult. War was the only mistress he’d dreamt about. He closed his eyes. He would sleep far passed dawn, just to annoy Hashirama. Maybe give Tobirama Senju a reason to spar him. Smirking at the thought, he relaxed his muscled body into sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hashirama on the other hand, wished he had told the Uchiha to have Madara come later- rather the very moment he returned. At the time he thought that the fire Daimyo was top priority. If they managed to get his support they would have little trouble with finances in their village, but the man kept playing coy, making almost impossible suggestions. He had hoped Madara could convince him, being Madara. Or scare him at least.

Now he was beginning to realize that sleep was much more important than such a petty matter. If one was awakened every single night, all night for no good reason, they tended to become unreasonable, even Hashirama Senju. While much more taciturn and mature, dare he muse, was Hashirama over Madara, even he got a little grouchy over lost sleep.

            The ‘God of all Ninja’ sighed deeply as he turned the corner.

Hashirama turned the corner of the Senju compound to find Tobirama and Mito Uzumaki staring pointedly at a certain window. Mito smiled widely as she saw Hashirama, and she pulled her night kimono a little tighter around her. Tobirama inwardly smirked. It was clear Hashirama and Mito _had_ it for one another.

But Hashirama was a damn coward when it came to her. Tobirama took a step away, forcing Hashirama to fill the void, which he did, carefully.

Then all three turned to look at the man who was singing sonnets right by Sayuriama’s window. They all inwardly cringed.

Another midnight caller for Sayuriama.

The third one this night, as a matter of fact. Every SINGLE night since they got back as her presence became known, things like this had happened. The morning was slowly getting closer, and the sky was brighter than before. The change in darkness was showing how long the man had been there.

He had been a pretty singer, but after two hours of being flat out ignored, his voice was starting to break. The trio watched him. Hashirama had even managed to give Mito the cloak he had been wearing, after she shivered slightly. Finally, after another ten minutes, the love-struck singer left in despair.

If the Senju brothers hadn’t had excellent patience, they would have killed the intruder suitors. The first night they had been alarmed, but laughed up when they saw the first of what would be many singers to grace their sister's window. Mito, the only one aware of what was coming, sighed. The brothers regretted the lax manner they had treated the first few.

Every single night. Tobirama was seriously considering using his Jutsu to start drowning the midnight visitors. The disappointed man jumped away, over the compound walls. Hashirama, after the third night, had made the wooden walls taller, but somehow they still got through.

Sayuriama didn’t make it any easier. She never talked about it, like it had never bothered her, or she wasn’t around to hear it. She did sleep in often, which her brothers had also done when there were sufficient Senju men to protect them. They couldn’t blame her... well maybe only her beauty.

Yet, Sayuriama was fickle in other frustrating ways.

Her brothers had learned very quickly three things about the new sister.

 

First, she must have known she was beautiful because she often used it as leverage, but she refused to talk seriously about it with them. It’s as if she only wanted to be beautiful when she could take advantage of the situation. Now, Tobirama could respect that sort of ingenuity, but she didn’t lend her favors easily to her brother, especially when she had been told she was by no means to train as a ninja.

Ten years, and this was still a problem.

Two, because these young men were so easily charmed and fell in love, she was never quite as charmed back. There was some talk about marriage that quickly was stopped when she had a huge tantrum, accusing them of wanting to be rid of her. Not that they did, hell, all Hashirama said was it was okay if she was interested in them, or wanted to have suitors.

Men even dared face Hashirama (More than Tobirama granted), to ask for a date.

Three, she was still the same sister, a Senju to her core and they discovered that they were more then happy to deal with most of her immaturity out of love. She was also still a snotty, childish, naive, unworldly, kid determined to get her own way. She was just as worthy as her brothers in the battle of tongues. Often time this was accompanied with someone becoming bright red as she proved her prowess in conversation.

 And they still loved her, and enjoyed her conversation, and presence, Tobirama constantly reminded himself.

Tobirama had once joked to Hashirama about marrying her to the fire Daimyo’s’ son, to convince him to create the alliance. Hashirama was giving the notion serious thought, especially after another sleepless night.

The only thing good about the midnight affairs for Hashirama that a certain red head women in a night robe. He blushed mildly. It was nightly caller's fault that he was having these forward thoughts. He was fortunate that Mito had been out and not at the breakfast table when Sayuriama, overhearing the marriage jokes, and gave him the one over. For someone completely uninterested in marriage, she seemed to have quite a bit of knowledge of what married people do. He rubbed his cheek in frustration, wondering how he had been outwitted by a silly sister. 

Mito turned to Hashirama, smiling. He would never know how it was Mito’s fault that Sayuriama had such an expansive knowledge. Or the fact that both women were planning his marriage to Mito the moment they got to Konoha. Hashirama would probably never know how he got Mito, but he did know that it was that woman that controlled their relationship.

She smiled up at him, suggesting they walk back together; Tobirama tactfully left the opposite way, to check on Sayuriama. He watched the retreating figures.

As he turned to walk away, his thoughts pained him. It was wonderful to see his brother finding a potential wife after all these lonely years, but after Tobirama had lost his fiancée in battle he shied away from relationships. Sayuriama with her undying declarations of silliness and dispassion had no idea how it hurt her middle brother. Tobirama had stiffer humor out of the two brothers, but he also had more time to spend with her. He often took her to the places he was working on, showing her his plans. She was quite brilliant when it came to helping out.

But not when it came to the nightly disturbances. If it wasn’t for Hashirama some love struck songbirds would be much wetter and in a makeshift hospital.

He went down the wood walkways, and across the lovely bridge.

They had moved Sayuriama’s room closer after the warning’s Mito had given to them. Men had a tendency in to fall in lust with their younger sister when she was living in Uzushiogakure, and not much had changed. They made sure she was accompanied at all times, much to her mortification, and that it was by a trustworthy clan member who was female. In the day time it wasn’t much of a problem, but at night it was flat out ridiculous. Tobirama silently decided that the Village was getting a new law.

‘Don’t bother the Senju brothers about their sister. She’s NOT interested. If you are found on Senju ground, you will be sent to Madara Uchiha to experience his Mangekyo Sharingan, then sent to the front lines.’

Tobirama smiled at the thought. Threatening people with Madara Uchiha almost always worked like a charm, though he was against becoming too friendly with any Uchiha.

But, pitting Sayuriama’s beauty to Madara’s scare factor would be interesting. Tobirama stretched his arms, then adjusted his night robe.

It was only half an hour until Madara was supposed to show, and there was really no point in trying to get some shut eye. He would be damned if Sayuriama was going to sleep in. 

Tobirama yawned, crossing the grass to Sayuriama’s apartment in the compound.

 

 


	3. Scroll 3

 

**Scroll 3**

 Sayuriama had never intended to become beautiful.

After all, she reasoned, beauty was shallow, a surface trait that could be easily marred or and would eventually faded with time. She certainly didn't want to be ugly, as every girl would tell you; but possessing beauty to the point where you are no longer viewed as a human, but an object? They underestimated her, she thought.

 She knew that’s how most people viewed her.

In a world where men killed one another for a piece of bread, she could never feel peace. This beauty was more a curse than a blessing.

It was probably that fact that drove her from her comfortable bed every night to try and train. She was well versed in every scroll the Uzumaki clan had, and she was getting through the Senju ones as well. But knowledge was not power until it could be applied, and that escaped her yet.

That’s why she was in the practice compound, still in the Senju compound. Her constant companion and guard was Tsunada Senju, who helped her, only to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

Fate had certainly been cruel to her. For someone who knew the importance of being a ninja, and not being able to do so was maddening. It was enraging knowing that your family was risking their lives every night and that you were the one that stayed in fear by the window, waiting for them to come home.

She also _knew_ that she was a bad fighter, but she couldn’t be derailed by that. Inside her she could feel the frustration bubbling, but shook it away.

Every kidnapping attempt had managed to be foiled, but she was still left with the fear that one day she wouldn’t be saved, despite being so heavily guarded. She hated being treated like a child, but she couldn’t help being frustrated with even her brothers. She was not a fragile daisy!

Or so she liked to think.

 She would have nothing to defend herself with besides minor Taijutsu she had learned, and her own quick tongue. She had trouble with Chakra, and had never been able to form it. She never had any skill with hand eye coordination, or grace when it came to fighting. The most she could do was throw a kunai near a target. No talent.  She had fought for just the ability to run.

Which was strange because as long as she stayed away from the _intentions_ of doing such, she was perfectly capable and balanced, and had learned to move with poise. It was as if her thoughts jinxed her. For having such battle proficient brothers as Hashirama and Tobirama, it was embarrassing. Not cute, or as people told her, endearing.

She was also spurred to action because it was impossible to sleep with men constantly outside her window. Oh, how her brothers laughed the first night. Different village, same voice of admiration. Since beauty was all these men knew of her, she felt like she really had no obligation to pay attention. As soon as she bid her family good night, she’d sneak away, missing the annoying wanting lovers. It was really the only time she had alone. After becoming the most _attempted_ _kidnapped_ person in Uzushiogakure, or more likely, the Land of Fire, she felt like she had the right to be the one doing to sneaking. She was a joke.

But even Sayuriama felt like there was something different that night, and she decided that she should leave the fields early. She slipped into her room, sighing in victory. Not being caught by her brothers was quite the feat. She did now the security measures, which had been explained in full to her, and was able to avoid every trap. She and Tsunada split up once she was safely in her room.

She pulled of the mask first, disconnecting the humid material from her sweaty face. It was much warmer here than in Uzushiogakure, and she was sure that she’d never get used to it. It was the devil in the daytime, especially since she often was dressed in the traditional kimono. Mito demanded it, saying lightly, as she was she comfortable in hers, that it showed that they were ladies, and they would be treated like them. Sayuriama wondered if she might have some actual friends if the other girls she had seen knew she wasn’t the snobby lady she portrayed.

She was how other girls, when she approached, shied away. The other female non-clan members of the village tended to avoid her. Even many females in the clan treated her with the bare respect, either due to admiration, or she supposed, jealousy. She wanted to scream how she was the same as them, she had no interest in their men. Too many of their boyfriends had been starstruck by her, leaving her derelict of friends. Only Mito had been her good friend in the Village Hidden in the Whirlpools.

It was all for the propriety of being a Senju sibling in this new city. They were a sort of Royalty in the ninja world, her brothers for their talent, skill and hard work, and she from assosiation and her face.

Princess, she was called. She laughed.

She doubt her dead brothers, Kawarama and Itama let her be treated so carefully. Hashirama and Tobirama were kind, but seemed to keep her at a distance. Tsunada was an old women, more a guard then friend.  Kawarama was kind and tender, and Itama had been wild and teasing. But they were thrown into battle and were long dead.

She looked at the mirror, wondering what they would have looked like. Maybe more like her, or her like them? Her chest felt a pang at the thought her mother, also gone. The only person that had never told her to give up. Her father adored her to the point of never letting her into battle. Now he was gone as well.

She was alone.

Sayuriama took off the rest of the training material, getting down to her fishnet shirt and white undergarments. Propriety was not something people who knew her would comment about of late.

She thought about leaving the clothes and armour on the floor. Her guardian, or more like her watcher, would probably smack her for being stupid. Tsunada knew about her wards midnight adventures, but for some reason had never outright disagreed with them. Besides Hashirama, who had used his Wood style Jutsu to create the understructure of the compound, Tsunada knew it best.As a matter of fact she had been quite the asset in learning the best way of getting out of the compound. She put them away in the closet.

The old aunty maid might help her to the point of cleaning her training clothes every day in addition to her regular duties, but she would kick Sayuriama’s butt if she left her clothes on the wooden floor. In a lingering fear of Tsunada’s fist, she picked up every piece and put it at the bottom of the woven laundry basket. She even went as far as to wipe the mud off the floor.

Next she went to her vanity. Thanks to Tsunada she also had water and a rag waiting every night she managed to get out. She scrubbed herself down, taking off everything. Much to her apprehensive conscience she noticed that she had managed to give herself some really nasty cuts. She cleaned them as well as possible, then went to the wardrobe. Opening the top draw she was shocked to find that she was out of undergarments. Grumbling she nauseously put on the dirty undergarments, then used the rag to try and clean them.

Failing to get the sweat out, she gave up. She was floored tonight. She had chosen tonight specifically because she knew she wouldn’t be woken up. There was nothing on her schedule (Her brothers schedule to be exact) that she was aware off.

Although the heat was horrendous, she was glad that she was wearing the kimonos. If nothing else they hid the cuts she had carelessly caused over the nights.

As she came back from her thoughts she noticed that her curtains, dark red, had a rosy glow coming through them. She sighed, grateful she had come back. Getting clean had taken longer than she thought. Her room was giving off the rosy glow, the wood reflecting the luminosity. Small bonsai plants from Hashirama were scattered around.

She had to laugh. Hashirama could be quite crazy when it came to his pet project, planting bonsai in as many randomly places in his village as possible.

It was very restive, and Sayuriama realized that she was indeed very tired. She liked watching the sunrise, but she had trained particularly hard tonight, and if she opened them, people might assume she was awake. She pulled out a white cotton robe and tied it around her slender waist.

She slid into the bed, and stretched out. She used a pearly hand, complete with perfectly cleaned nails grabbed the leather tie that had been holding her hair and pulled it out. She brushed her copious amounts of hair, letting it breathe. The rich color complemented her clear, smooth skin, not affected in the slightest by the climate. She had always tried to make sure her face never got scratched, so no one would ask awkward questions.

 She pushed her hair away, letting it fall of the bed. She couldn’t help but smile. She had finally accomplished something, and would now sleep. Like she wouldn’t have done had she’d stayed all night. Her midnight visitors would never know they were singing to an empty room.

She grabbed the cotton covers, pulling their warmth around her. It was probably a little too warm, even in the early morning, for using covers, but it had become a habit back in the land of Eddy's. It was a lot colder there.

            Fortunately the cotton was pretty breezy and the temperature was soon perfect. The cotton pillow molded to her face, a little stiffer than the feather she had when staying in Uzushiogakure. But the cotton managed to fare better. If they got dirty they were much easier to clean, and Tsunada didn’t have to switch material too often.

            The Senju clan did have the money to buy the best, but they were currently using quite a chunk to create the Ninja village. The village was quite the revolutionary idea. Instead of the wealthy paying clans, all they would have to do is support a village that would protect their entire country. Sayuriama did think it was amazing what her brother was doing, but the Fire Daimyo was being quite the devil about it. That’s what she heard anyhow. She knew that they had high hopes for the last person they sent to convince him.

Sayuriama closed her eyes, the thick lashes resting on her cheeks. She sighed before falling into the limbo between sleep and awake, and drifted into the dark.

 

The screen slammed open and Sayuriama jumped up, almost screaming. Tobirama smiled at his adorable little sister, obviously just awaking from a long night of sleep. For a very apparent reason it irritated him. His smile was one she was getting to know- what on earth had she done to irritate him now? Did he discover she was stealing his kunai? Regardless she yelled.

“Tobirama! Really? What the h-”

“Language, my darling Sayuri!” He said using his nickname, and bounding into her room, taking large steps. “I’m so glad to see you have gotten your beauty sleep.” He smirked. She had a faint dark shadow under her eyes, and he wished he could show the rest of the women that there was hope. She _was_ still human.

Sayuriama glared, then lay back down pulling her covers over her.

What was her brother doing in her room at the crack of dawn? Even more, what was he doing, smirking in that creepy manner. He looked a little insane. He was wearing his metal forehead protector (Had he ever taken it off?) and his white hair looked as if it was on some sort of drug the way it was whacking out. He was in his night robe and his white hairy legs were sticking out. She shivered at the thought. Male legs should not be so casual.

 “Ninja Art: Blanket-No-Jutsu. Now I’m not here. Leave Tobi.” Sayuriama muffled voice came from beneath the fabric, giving her brother the insulting, shortened form of his name. She attempted to make her voice threatening, but it more came out in tender mew. She remembered why she hated mornings. She was not in the mood.

Neither was Tobirama.

He just hid it behind that cold smile reserved for moments as this. He stepped over to the bed and in a swift motion stripped her of her protective guise. She gasped at getting flipped out of the blanket, and again when he hoisted her to her feet. His speed was insane, and she was on the suddenly cold floor standing her bare feet in a matter of moments.

 ‘I’m even bad at fake ninjutsu.’ She thought correctly.

 As Tobirama heaved his sister up he noticed scraps on her arms and legs. The underclothes looked sticky and there was dirt on the fabric also. Sayuriama attempted to wrench away from her brother, scrambling in a comedic fashion.

 “Sayuri. Why do these look fresh?” He hoisted up a leg much to her dismay and she slipped. He grabbed her and held her in balance while inspecting the cut. “You look like you’ve been rolling in the mud.”

“I accidently fell into a bush yesterday. They probably opened when you grabbed me!” She lied smoothly, attempting to her arm and leg freed. “Let GO Tobirama!” The said man’s dark eyebrows rose, and were almost covered by the ever existent metal plate on his forehead. She looked him, eyes narrowed.

 “You’re very unbalanced.” He said, shrugging, not really buying the story, but not letting go of her appendages. He looked at the cut on her leg again. “Let’s put some medicine on it.”

“Let Tsunada do it and you can leave to do whatever you’re up so early for!” Sayuriama managed to free her arm. She gestured, waving him away. “Come to think of it, Tobirama, what did you wake me up for? I thought we had a free morning!” He smiled again, that cold smile. The marks on his face seemed to grow, and for a moment she wondered if it hurt when he got them. She forgot her question as he finally released her leg, apparently excited about the news. He loved being the one telling the story.

 “The men we sent to the Fire Daimyo just got back, about two hours ago. We’re meeting them as soon as possible.” She could almost see his satisfaction.

 “That’s nice,” She replied, coldly “But it has nothing to do with me.” Tobirama stopped cold. He then looked her straight in the face, appraising her. For some reason she was dirty.

            “Hashirama requested it.” Sayuriama sighed. Was she supposed to stun the poor ambassadors with her beauty? They would no doubt be tired.

            “I’m tired. Find another sister.” She reached down to grab the blanket that had been so rudely thrown to the floor. Tobirama grabbed it first, and pulled it out of reach.

 “I think not princess.” Sayuri looked up.

“I am not a princess!”

His smirk got bigger.

“What’s the big deal?” She than noticed in horror he had that smile on. The face he got whenever he was about to do something really nasty, that would make him win their argument. Granted, he didn’t get to use it often when in verbal dialogue with Sayuriama and her tongue, but she had learned to run when he had it.

She than noticed that he had his hands out forward, about the clap them together. She recognized the simplified hand sign of her brother and looked in horror.

            “You wouldn’t DARE.” She hissed. He smiled.

 “You are rather dirty, maybe this will wake you up. It’s like killing two enemies with one hand sign.”

 “I’m wearing white!” She said, hoping to escape. Her worst fear was realized as he tossed her the blanket that had fallen to the floor, and resumed the hand sign. He out his hand out in front of him then drew them back sharply, clapping.

“Water Release: Water Shockwave!”

Sayuriama managed to call her brother a very rude name before the virtual wall of water hit her full on. She then screamed.

Water release was usually a technique used for offense, and one that ninja brothers didn’t often use it on their younger sisters. Tobirama and Sayuri weren’t ordinary ninja, or siblings. They were Senju.

It was a testament to Tobirama’s skill as a ninja that he was able to perform such a syncopated hand skill, and even more so that he was using it a bath for his little sister.

Tsunada, the substitute mother of Sayuri, was standing at the door, noticing the skill that Tobirama was utilizing the Jutsu, cracking up as he did so. His voice wasn’t as deep as Hashirama’s wise one, but it held the same confidence, and maybe a bit more of a mischievous will. Sayuriama was holding onto the blanket as the Jutsu circled her. It was much smaller than his real attack, but almost as vicious.

Tobirama was holding his hands crossed contently, keeping the Jutsu up. He looked almost too happy. Tsunada stepped in, holding a fresh pair of underwear in her arms. Tobirama acknowledged her with a nod, smirking.

“You’re up early Tsunada.” She nodded, agreeing.

Sayuriama, seeing her, screamed for help between several face fulls of water. “Tsu-“ Water. “na-“ Water. Screw the name. “HEL-“ Water in face.

“I heard the yelling. I could say the same to you Lord Tobirama.” She said calmly, looking as the scene.

“I’ve actually been up all night.”

“A common thing here, I’m afraid.” Tobirama grinned at the woman. As he looked over at his sister, it did seem a little unfair.

“She is clean, I suppose.” He said a little dramatically, releasing his Jutsu. He then moved to the window, tossing the curtains aside, and opened it. Performing another hand sign the water on the floor where the Jutsu was raised and went out. As if on a second the thought, the water on Sayuriama followed.

 She sat on the floor, damp, a little disorientated.

Tsunada looked at Tobirama, thinking that she was seeing the only man who used Ninjutsu to bath his sister. Then she watched as he went over to Sayuri and gently lifted her up, blanket and all. She hadn’t been knocked around all that bad, but she was pretty mad.

            She directed a surprisingly well-aimed fist into his firm chest, which Tobirama took, but smiled. He then grabbed the wet girl in a hug, kissed her sopping forehead, and walked to Tsunada. He gave her the update of the morning, and she nodded. He then left waving goodbye over his shoulder, going to dress.

 “I hate you both.” Sayuriama glared at the older woman who was staring after Tobirama’s back. She turned back, smirking.

 “You’re the spoiled girl who deserved it. Hm.”

“Did you SEE what he did to me! That was abuse!” Tsunada went over to Sayuriama who had sat on the bed. She put her arms on the girl’s shoulders, and Sayuriama Sayuriama began to warm up. Tsunada had an affinity towards fire, so it was really no surprise she was so warm. She had the ability to pass body heat to people. “Thanks, but I’m still angry.

            “Let’s get you ready.”

            “I guess now that I’m awake.”

Tsunada and Sayuriama rushed down the wooden walkways of the Senju compound twenty minutes later. They had a few more tiffs about what to wear, but Tsunada won out, as she always did when it came to clothes. She was wearing a gorgeous blue kimono, a traditional Senjua tree pattern. Her obi, the long sash of whites and yellow was tied in a firm not at her back, forming a bow. Her long smooth hair had been put up in a more elaborate style, flower ornaments placed with care.

After the last touches, socks and house sandals, they left.

They were silent as they passed the family sleeping quarters where the Senju cousins were, but as they got closer to the main house Sayuriama turned to Tsunada. She had lifted the kimono slightly, trading modesty for ease. She did have a tendency to trip in the shoes, and was often shoeless for an easier commute. Not today. With all this preparation, is was clear Hashirama wanted to impress.

“Who are these ambassadors?” Tsunada looked hesitantly at her. If Sayuriama was getting dressed up like a doll this early she deserved an answer. She had been pretty good about not falling asleep again.

“One was your uncle Hotaka.” Sayuriama nodded. It made sense that she hadn’t seen him, though they had been friends in her youth. There were so many people she had to remember these past few day; not even mentioning the new people and clans. The fews weeks she had been here had been a blur.

“I was wondering where he was. I miss his quips. Who was the other unlucky fellow?” Sayuriama grinned, and Tsunada snickered, then covered her mouth with her kimono as if improper.

It was well known Hotaka Senju was an excellent negotiator, but more notoriously, that he was also a nostalgic pervert. Especially when it came to reminiscing about his dead wife. Half of what Sayuriama knew was from listening to her old uncle in her youth. He had been a sort of patron to her cheekiness.

“It is rather unusual. The other fellow, as you put it, was the Lord Madara.” Now this was news! Sayuriama’s head really turned towards her partner. She conspiratorially leaned in as if to tell a scary story. Which had been what he was to many Senju. Terrifying.

“Madara… as in Madara Uchiha?” Sayuriama couldn’t help but ham it up a bit.

 

Who didn’t know the Madara Uchiha? At least the name was well feared. The man that caused every Senju child shiver in fear. The Uchiha that single handedly brought the Uchiha clan from a dwindling clan to one of the few that had been able to spar the Senju Clan.  It was if a secret from her childhood was being delved into, and relished. Oh the tales she had been privy. The whisperings of him. And now, of course, she would meet him. It only made sense, but she couldn’t help feel a twinge of fear at the Uchiha name. They had, after all, been the ones that were responsible for the death of so many, her brothers included.

The Uchiha clan. What Senju didn’t feel some sort of anger towards them? Her own brothers, Itama and Kawarama had died as children in battle against the very clan. Madara had rose to power not long after, and child deaths had dropped substantially. But still- How could she not take this moment to let him know just _what_ the Senju thought of him? A mild revenge, but the best she could do.

 It would be too fun.

She narrowed her eyes, putting a finger to her lips. Tsunada nodded.

“The very same. I’m sure you’re more than knowledgeable about the Uchiha. You have strange fascinations for things you have no business in.” Tsunade already knew Sayuriama was troublesome when it came to intrigue and things that generally should be unspoken.

“Uh Tsunade! You assume too much. I am too little a girl to be of notice.”

“I would be grateful if that logic could last through the night. We’re all very tired of these singing boys.”

“I would be rude if I told them to leave.” Sayuriama put her hand to her mouth, aware of her silliness. “I’m sure Madara Uchiha would be angry if I was so rude.”

“Little brat. You will call him _Lord_ Madara when you meet him, and you will certainly not be so crass as to speak to him. Lord Hashirama has a very high opinion of him, and would be displeased if he was vexed.”

“So am I to at least meet _Lord Madara_? I’m assuming he will be there?” The name sounded exotic on her tongue, and a little dangerous. The girl subconsciously pulled her lovely blue robes around her, her cheeks a bit red at the cool morning air. Which was still more preferable than the hot afternoons. “The same Lord Madara that has hated the Senju for generations.”

Tsunada frowned.

“If he deems it worth his time. He might make us wait- You never quite know with him. And you will _not_ vex him. We need to put the past behind us. ”

Sayuriama smiled delicately. “Of course not. It’s not like the Uchiha have ever vexed a Senju.” Tsunada frowned. “Or killed one.”

“We need to put old anger behind us, if this village is to work. You must be an example of this.” Sayuriama frowned. “We have killed many of them as well.”

Sayuriama stopped for just a moment.

“I suppose.” Her face wasn’t convinced.

The two entered the Senju large meeting house, erected with thick pillars and an elegant, tiled roof. It had been painted in the usual Senju colors, emblems gleaming on lacquered wood. The Senju symbol gleamed in the night. Sliding doors lined the walls, a multitude of the rooms of many family members, as well as the various people employed. Hashirama had opened the doors to many in need.

The few ninja inside recognized them, nodded slightly, as if with little interest. Young guards let their eyes follow Sayuriama until she had passed, leaving the flowery scent of her perfumes to grace their imaginations.

It was a quiet place, this early. Sayuriama matched her voice to the mood, keeping it low.

“So why have I been summoned? To complement the tea or seduce the Uchiha?” Tsunada hit her on the head. “Ow!”

“No silliness. And it’s LORD Madara. Be polite.” Sayuriama chuckled and bit her lip, eyebrows raising. “But only Lord Hashirama would know the real reason for that.”

“Old hag. That hurt- Don’t bother giving me your airs. I know that you know every intrigue. Hashirama is no fool when it comes to his staff.”

“Yes.” Sayuriama rubbed her head and Tsunade had to swat at her again to make sure all the work she had done was not ruined.

“Stop it!”

“Not until you’re perfect.”

“Tell me! Your gossip is bar none the only perfect thing in this house.” Tsunada smirked, not denying the statement. She did just happen to occasionally _hear_ things. It wasn’t really gossip, but more making sure things ran smoothly.

“I suppose your brother wants to show Madara he trusts and respects him. How better to do so, than to formally introduce his beautiful, untouchable, sister to him? You have not been formally introduced to many people.”

“It’s his fault I don’t get out more often.” She said, feeling dejected. She had very much wanted to go to the play the other night, and had jealously watched from afar as other people had passed to go. But, Hashirama always seemed to have some sort of trick up his sleeve. He was much more cunning than he let on.

“Quiet. We’re getting close.” Sayuriama nodded, hearing the murmur voices to the front of them, in the cozy personal room at the end of the hall. They were behind the screen, and the murmur of voices slipped through the tatami.

How would she crush the Uchiha? She would have to do so in a way that was so formal and endearing that he might not even _know_ she was slowly draining with him. After all, men usually never considered her intelligent.

But then, at the sound of a voice, her thoughts stopped.

Sayuriama normally wouldn’t think that voices could affect her. She, by far, had the most enticing voice she knew off. She had once charmed a kidnapper so well with her voice, he didn’t notice a group of Eddy ninja walk behind him and hit him over the head. They found her looking rather bored.

As she got closer, she started identifying people, and she was surprised that indeed, maybe there was someone who had enough of a voice to charm even her. Maybe there was also something behind sound ninjutsu.

Hashirama had his deep reassuring voice, even and calm. He wasn’t the most talented conversationalist, but he had this was of making you feel comfortable and agreeable. Even after ten years that hadn’t changed, and she still felt safe hearing it. She could also hear Mito. If she hadn’t known better, she would have guessed they were already married, the way Mito’s voice seemed to accent Hashirama’s in the most perfect way. They both had great charisma. Tobirama voice was slightly lower than Hashirama’s, but it still held that Senju confidence. And if she had to guess, he was not a little too happy. Normally he seemed to be lighter, and joke more than usual, but still held that tone of strength and passion. He wasn’t quite as calming, but he did have a pull to him. Power. Even Uncle Hotaka had a distinct style, though less elegant. She adored it.

She was just about to slide open the screen door when he spoke, and she was glad she had not. It caught her off her guard, and her knees trembled a bit. But It was this last voice that really caught her attention.

“It wasn’t as successful as I hoped, but I do think we managed to make him consider that the repercussions of not deciding to give us his support wouldn’t be very good.”

It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from her lungs. Her expression went from confident tease to white chalk in seconds. Tsunada turned to the girl, and was caught off guard by her expression, the hand stopped cold. The sound of rushing blood filled her ears, then, the steady beat of her own heart.

It wasn’t the exact words that caught her attention and could be forever engrained in her; It was the absoluteness of the voice.

At first, it was a honeyed tone, full of convincing meaning, but as she listened, it turned deeper than Tobirama’s, husky and full of unspoken secrets.

She knew it would be hard to convince herself that something like electricity to shoot through her because of a voice. She felt herself become alive at the sound. So assured of it’s own ability to create poetry where none was meant, and she knew that if the man matched, she would be in trouble. This voice had the ability to make her _feel._

There was really only one way to describe the voice. A way she had never had cause to say about anyone, much less a voice. Sybaritic. She listened with a hedonistic pleasure to the voluptuous, amative man. He would not be controlled, nor could she so simply embarrass him.

She realized that she was a vestal women. She looked to her raised hand, shaking. She indeed was as austere in her romantic tendances as an unplucked flower. She felt the urge to learn just what in him made her seem so... so restrained. It would be like flying. Would his image match the voice? Would she forever be doomed to wish to come back to this after she opened this door?

Or would her life begin anew, finding a worthy challenge? Would her heart continue to be full of wonder?

 Tsunada had looked on in surprise, wondering just what the silly girl was up too. A little listening at doors was not unusual to gauge the situation, but Sayuriama had seemed frozen. Tsunada reached out, putting a hand to her forehead. Suddenly, time caught back up to her.

Sayuriama pushed it away, breaking from the trance. She felt her heart settle. She turned to Tsunada, taking on a cheeky look.

“Are you well?” Tsunada said quietly, taking care not to be heard. Sayuriama lifted a hand to open the door, taking a moment. Tsunada noted the quick hard tremor and frowned. She moved to leave, but Sayuriama shook her head.

 “I’m... Electric.”

Then she slid open the door, all smiles.


	4. Scroll 4

When Madara woke, it was much to his own surprise, he was feeling better. He no longer felt that _edge._ Which was a great relief to many Uchiha, since nothing good came out of Madara’s hunger for war.

Hayo, the ‘assistant’ the clan seniors encouraged him to take, had dared come and wake him- which spoke badly about the question of his head, but well about his confidence. Madara chose him because when it came to loyalty with no questions asked, Hayo was as good as it got, even if he was a little young to be at the top of his intellectual prowess. Though he would have prefered Setsuna, there was no reason not to give the man a rest.

He waved the man away to wait.

Deciding that he might as well get the damn meeting over with, he was quick to be ready.

High collared shirt, black pants, and durable sandals, nothing fancy. He didn’t have a mirror, and ran his long fingers through his hair, not thinking much the black mane. The hair had grown wild, longer than most women’s. No reason to bother with appearances.

Nor did he bother with any of the more elaborate weapons on his stand, knowing they’d be more of a hassle than help. Strapping more than a few kunai on would be more than sufficient in this strange village he had help create. No more were the days of prowling, fully armed at every moment.

He nearly threw the table as his darker thoughts once again consumed him. The world as he knew- the one he loved- it was disappearing. The control he had seemed to be slipping away.

_Liar_

The thought stuck with him, like a sticky mess, as he headed to the exit of the Uchiha compound. There was still a few tents, but all the Uchiha would nearly be housed at the end of month. It made him feel mildly better, seeing the few clan members up bow in deference to him, and he nodded back. They seemed to still _like_ him.

There was the usual sentry at the gate, bowing at Madara. Hayo was also there, but instead of looking tired as he had earlier, he looked much more awake.

“Heh.” The boy nodded respectfully, dark ash hair falling over his pale face, not surprised at the curt greeting. Madara did note the boy was more handsome than the typical Uchiha kid, but his subordinate surprised him. Hayo, for some unknown reason, was dressed in what must have been his nicest dress kimono. He did look more like a kid in his father’s robe. The well concealed tapping of his fingers didn’t hide the fact that Hayo clearly felt like one as well.

Madara even caught a whiff of something musky, making him raise a sarcastic brow. He shook the question away, deciding it wasn’t worth the brainpower. What Hayo did usually made little sense to him.

Madara gave him something between a sneer and a sigh of exasperation. Which made Hayo look relieved.

“Yes, Lord Madara.” Hayo followed as Madara exited the tall wood gate that separated them from the city. Hayo struggled to keep up with Madara’s long legs in the kimono, which Hayo knew was on purpose. Madara was giving him a different sort of punishment.

Hayo couldn’t see Madara’s smirk, but he could feel it. But the smile wasn’t just for him- the shinobi was pleased to see the village coming together; and he had pride in the village, he admitted to himself. The Uchiha crest blazed brightly on many shops and residences.

But still, there was a fine line, and he wondered if this continued, if the Uchiha would lose the sense of themselves. He tried not to let Izuna’s voice come to him.

_Betrayer_

He focused away, turning to the brisk morning. It would soon be hot, full of people, and work; but now it was his. He put his hands behind his head, and took a deep breath in, for once, letting the voice go. There was no reason to ruin a morning like this.

The sun inched it’s way up, hitting his wild onyx hair.

 

 Hayo looked at the steady clan leader, walking a straight course in front of him. He seemed much more relaxed, more open than Hayo had seen in months. The Lord ninja was much taller then most of the men, and quite the figure, even in simple dress. He seemed to fill the empty streets, and had the charisma to lead men. He was a worthy man to follow, to die for. Hayo, like many other young Uchiha men, wanted the attention of their Lord, his praise and trust.

Which he one of the reasons he begged for this position.

He looked over Madara with red eyes, taking in the calm state of his chakra. He needed to take a risk at some point, but also would rather not be dismissed or demeaned. He wasn’t sure about Madara’s mood, but he would likely be more furious at any surprises Hashirama would spring on him, especially ones that Hayo already knew of.

 “Lord Madara.” Madara slowed his grueling pace slightly, and Hayo caught up, standing side by side. This was as clear an indication he would get to talk. Madara didn’t bother to turn his head, or eyes.

“There is one matter, a detail, that is likely to come up.” Madara narrowed his black orbs, a bad sign.

“A detail, Hayo? I hope it’s not important.” Hayos insides shrunk at the menecing tone. Madara’s voice was always a touch of cyanide, with a dash of honey. So he wasn’t in the mood to entertain fools- but he hadn’t thrown Hayo into a building yet. Not that he regularly threw clan members outside of training, but Madara could be be convinced.

“Well, it’s more of -” Madara cut in, and Hayo didn’t even try to imagine what sort of death was in store for him.

“Was I supposed to bring a written report? Or formal wear?” Hayo shook his head quickly, very embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to out-do Madara. Madara didn’t stand for people who outdid him, and there were only a few who lived to tell the tale. Hayo admired the Senju brothers all the more for their courage to face Madara Uchiha in battle.

 “No, no, my lord, I am dressed so that, well-” Madara rolled his eyes. Maybe he should chose another subsidiary and finally get rid of this one.

“Well then, don’t waste my time.” Hayo sighed at the curt voice.

“It was brought up that the attendant from the land of Eddy's would attend. They arrived just a few weeks ago, and-”

“Heh.” Madara would throw Hayo if that was it.

“And it is likely that Lord Hashirama ’s younger sister be there, also.” Hayo said, rubbing his kimono down nervously. At least it was out.

At this, Madara decided that maybe Hayo was not quite as stupid as he previously assumed, because this was actual information.

“Hashirama Senju has a sister.” Madara stated, before looked down at Hayo, who nodded and bowed in clear deference.

“Yes, My Lord.”

            Madara put his hand to his chin, turning this information through his head. And so Hashirama had yet another card up his sleeve. As brainless as the man tended to come off as, Madara knew Hashirama was no fool. A sister so well hidden that not even he knew of her? The Uchiha intel during the had been better then the Senju. It was certainly strange that Hashirama would bother introducing a sibling as such. A sibling hidden away from war meant that sibling was likely a poor, or heaven forbid, useless fighter. Now that would be interesting. The Senju women were fierce and plentiful, unlike the Uchiha women, and had no reason to hide.

            Hayo chimed in, feeling a little more confident.

            “I believe he wants to show you his trust.” Madara raise his chin, a mocking smile.

“I suppose that’s _appropriate_. If those are his intentions.”

“Yes, It’s an honor, he hardly introdu-” Hayo continued, but Madara was once again in his thoughts.

The annoying Uzumaki clan he could turn to his advantage, as well as the mysterious sister that had popped out of thin air. There was some talk of Hashirama being interested in taking an Uzumaki bride. Two weak points in the clan. A sister that was likely dear to even the less sentimental Tobirama Senju. Madara darkly mused what it would be like to make him feel what losing a sibling was like.

He wasn’t surprised. The land of Eddy's was close with the Hidden Leaf, and had been one of the first to copy the Konoha hidden Village System. They had actually managed to gain support from a feudal lord already. It could be a good alliance. But the girl- he needed more information before he could plan his next move.

 “So tell me about the girl. This _mysterious_ sister. I wasn’t aware there were more Senju siblings.” The words he inferred were clear to Hayo. The other two Senju had been killed early, by Uchiha.

“She only just arrived, with the envoy from the Uzumaki clan. It’s clear she and Mito Uzumaki are close.” Madara smirked.

“As the Senju are with many weak clans.”

 “Is her presence a problem, Lord Madara?” Hayo asked as passively as he could. Madara put his arms to his side, undoing the wrinkling his dark shirt. The wind blew gently on his deceptively smooth face.

“Heh. I suppose not.” They continued in silence through the city until they reached the Senju compound. The guards immediately recognized Madara, and led them to one of many meeting rooms, if not looking a bit perturbed by him. Many had seen him in battle.

Madara was actually surprised they were the first ones there.

Madara snorted in disgust, then sat down onto one of the formal cushions that lined the expensive looking table, letting his long legs cross in front of him. He very much would liked to have kicked his feet up on the wood and taken a nap at the Senju’s expense. Hayo sat next to him, taking care not to wrinkle his outfit. He checked his reflection looking into the shiny tabletop.

Quick, a male servant brought them both tea, placing Madara’s first. Hayo didn’t really notice when his was placed, and forgot to thank the man. Madara raised an eyebrow, put off by Hayo’s vanity. Madara never thanked servants, being a ritual that the subordinate did. He set his tea down after the servant left.

“What are you doing?” Hayo looked up wide eyed from the well waxed table to his superior. He smiled uncertainly, knowing that he was only a few moments away from his face in a wall.

 “Lord Madara?” Madara breathed in slowly, and put his elbows to rest flatly on the table, chin on top of his interlaced fingers. His index finger was barely touching his chin, but it was tapping ominously.

“Why did you dress up like a _peacock_ , and why do you _keep examining yourself_ like you’re face is going to change in the next ten seconds?” He said slowly, trying to control himself. Hayo went bright red, and looked down at his apparel.

 “I… and, I just think that this sort of meeting requires a more forma-”

            “Ah, don’t give me shit. I remember receiving a report that you complained for over an hour to Akinobu about wearing formal clothes for meetings.” Madara growled menacingly.

 Hayo stuttered, trying to not make the situation worse. Finally, as if giving up, he sighed. In a low whisper he muttered something.

Madara narrowed his eyes- He had heard, but he wasn’t going to let this slip so easily. “Heh, you’re sounding rather like a women. Louder.” He pulled up one of his hands and put it to his forehead, feeling as if a headache was coming from Hayo’s stupidity.

“I wish to impress. The Senju sister.” Hayo said, than put his face down in shame. Madara put down his hand and turned to look full on at his younger counterpart. When he realized he was being truthful, he was even more floored. Things clicked into place.

“You’re trying to impress a _senju_ woman?” Madara said, quite surprised. He knew that Hayo, being the Uchiha he was, never had any problem getting the girls. The fact he was trying was quite a shock. Madara snorted at Hayo’s ridiculousness.

“Yes, Lord.”

“Would she be coming, _because it was suggest by us_?”

Hayo went red. “I wouldn’t dare. Lord Hashirama deemed it.”

“And you agreed. Why would you feel a girl was necessary at a diplomatic meeting?” Hayo looked up at Madara, almost like he was going to tell him something that Madara wouldn’t comprehend. Madara’s face seemed to scream ‘try me’.

“...”

Madara sighed.

“I can’t wait to hear the changes that were made since I left. With men like you, I’m sure the Uchiha would forfeit all of their rights.” Hayo winced, and was prepared for another one of Madara’s berating speeches, when the door slid open to reveal Hashirama. Behind him was and a lovely red haired women, likely the Uzumaki, followed by Tobirama.

Madara was surprised to find that he was disappointed the sister was not there.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Hashirama looked over the room, and smiled. Madara was obviously on his last nerve, and that made him feel better. He hoped they could spar soon.

He escorted Mito to a cushion, then walked to sit across Madara. He stretched out his hand. Madara took it hesitatingly and they both shook, exchanging greetings.

 Hashirama was also dressed simply, elegant in his dress.

His eyes widened when he looked over at Hayo. There was no reason for the poor boy to dress so finely. But it wasn’t his concern, and he moved on.

He also introduced the red head women as the Eddy ambassador, Mito Uzumaki. She was a little more formally dressed, and Hayo felt a little less awkward. Hashirama, being politer, commented on how well he looked, than the door opened again.

 By the time Tobirama came in, frown and all, he took the seat next to Hayo, who looked startled. He nodded towards the Uchiha party leaving the left seat across from him, and next to Mito empty. Hashirama, even jovial seeming, began.

“I’m afraid I’ve caused you trouble.”

Madara nodded slowly, but gave the typical answer.

“Of course it’s nothing.” He said, pushing his wild hair over his shoulder. The servant returned, bearing more steaming hot tea. The group began discussing Madara’s journey.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was all like Madara had expected.

Then, the door opened. Madara turned, anticipation peaked. He looked over, to solve the mystery of this Senju girl that had so charmed Hayo. When he had returned, other Uchiha had mentioned her, but it was only know that felt the need to know what sort of sway she held.

But alas, it wasn’t her.

The old Uncle Senju had come. There was something like a stab of disgust in Madara’s stomach.

To his dismay, he sat next to him at the head of the table, giving a jovial pat on the Uchiha’s back, which was returned with a dark look. Hashirama looked at his Uncle Hotaka, smiling at the old man’s straightforwardness. He seemed to have brought more energy to the group, but also increased the tension.

Much to Madara’s inner chagrin, he was enjoying discussing the audacity of the Daimyo with a rapt audience. Having control of the room pleased him. He especially was satisfied when he looked over at Hayo, who hadn’t said a word, and saw him twiddling his thumbs. No sister had graced them. Madara turned back to answer Hashirama question.

“It wasn’t as successful as I hoped, but I do think we managed to make him consider that the _repercussions_ of not deciding to give us his support wouldn’t be very good.” Madara added a darker tone than he usually would, but he needed Hashirama to know that he had control of this.

The door once again opened. Madara didn’t bother turning again. He expected a refill of tea from a servant, and was surprised to see the room go quiet.

Hashirama nodded the person in.

“Sayuriama. You’re late.” To his surprise it was a fearless young voice that answered. He figured that this must be the sister, and decided to take a test. The ‘Hayo’ test. Was the Senju sister worth getting dressed up for? He bet on the logical fact he wouldn’t- not if she resembled Hashirama.

His face turned, dark eyes ready to teach this girl an unsaid lesson; her place among the table. It would be rather petty, but satisfying. His face held no expression as he finally looked.

He felt an electric bolt go through him.

It was very clear to Madara just why Hayo had wanted the sister there.

 


	5. Scroll 5

 

**Scroll 5**

 

“Forgive me, brother. You ought to know that we women are fickle creatures, and that I simply couldn't decide on a kimono.” Sayuriama hoped this sounded as pretentiously silly as she didn’t feel. She wanted time to gauge the situation and think tactics, as she had been so throw before even entering the door.  

But she had barely said this when she received the answer she  _ needed,  _ one that she couldn’t live without _ ; _ Just  _ who _ was this Madara Uchiha. 

Senju clan hater, murderer? Hashirama, though he rarely mentioned him, usually called him a good man under a veneer of prejudice. Hashirama had always seemed to have something of a soft spot, according to Tobirama. The younger brother hated the Uchiha. She had always been somewhat more aligned to Tobirama...

She quickly skimmed over her family, and Hashirama’s wide grin, to the more unfamiliar inky black hair. The Uchiha’s, similar in dress and color, with their pale skin and dark clothes. She had been surprised when she walked in to find  _ two _ Uchiha males, though it made sense. 

She was off balance, but still, this was beginning to feel like a battle she couldn’t just abandon. She had to do something petty! Her first glance made her feel mildly better. The closest Uchiha to her was ornately decorated, quite like herself, and she wondered if he was sweating. The younger man turned eagerly, like a child, and she knew she simply couldn't bear if this was Madara. You shouldn't  _ judge  _ someone, especially ninja based on wear, but it was easy to see right through this one.

She had to shift her head to see the other ninja, moving to see her by Mito. 

The other was clean and simple, except for that mane of wild dark hair, and long legs. He would be a good foot over her. She had automatically assumed that the unpretentious one was the servant, like any female that has her mind taught on decorum rules. It was disappointing enough to consider turning around and leaving, except Hashirama would be upset; While Tobirama was unpleasant angry, Hashirama could be terrifying. 

However, to her great astonishment, she then recognized the one in the egoist dress. He was one of those guards who she had almost convinced to let her on top of the wall.

Hamo Uchiha was it? She had almost convinced him, except Tobirama came looking for her. Despite being an Uchiha, he had been rather kind, shy and polite. 

More importantly, that logically led to another solution. Therefore the one in the simpler dress was no servant. He had to absolutely had to be Madara Uchiha, and  _ perhaps _ the owner of the most enticing voice she had ever heard.

She waited, letting the men turn so she could see their faces.

It was well known that the Uchiha’s had the same characteristics generally, and the one she recognized, (Hano? Hanku? No that’s not it...) did they did all share similarities to the infamous leader of the Uchiha clan. But to say that Madara Uchiha looked typical, like any other Uchiha, would be an ersatz statement. Sayuriama considered her brothers handsome, as she figured she was pretty, in a trivial manner.

But the legendary Madara Uchiha wasn’t good looking in the gentle way her brothers seemed to her. As he turned, his exotic black eyes sharer then an obsidian knife, she felt her legs weaken.Long, tumbling hair that could almost rival her own mane. 

He was pure male, not an ounce of feminine features on his entire body. 

Hayo (As she remembered his name.) looked very slender, almost  _ pretty _ , compared with the sharp features of Madara Uchiha. There was a boy and a man here, and so had no doubt which was which.

There was an absoluteness in this dark clan leaders features, a deadliness that would make most people turn away. Dark lips verging on a sneer, clearly a God of War among Shinobi. 

Clearly, he didn’t liked being looked at. She didn’t realize she was staring, and tilted her head in greeting.

Once again, she had been caught in surprise.

It was nothing like she had ever seen. She was fixed in his dark glare, the intensity that surprised her, looking irritated at being interrupted. One long eyebrow raised as if to dare her to continue standing around. A man who loved control. Once he had it, it was over. 

Madara didn’t spare her a second look. He turned around and resumed his conversation. Not a nod, or any bending.

“As I recall, we still have serious matters to discuss...” And he began talking again.

Unkle Hotaka gave a slight laugh at her face, then turned.

Her mouth opened at the Uchiha who now had his back turned to her. Never, Ever, in the history of her life had a man ever turned away first. It was like she didn’t matter. Like she was normal, nothing to see. Never had she been ignored. 

It bothered her, more than she could say. She had never lost her game of charms...

Hayo hadn’t turned away, and was staring at Sayuriama, giving her a slight smile, until Madara turned to him, and he resumed looking at the table expressionlessly. Hashirama turned back to Madara, and their conversation continued. Mito turned back a moment later, a small comment on how well she looked, which received small nod. Sayuriama stepped around the table, not daring looking at the conversing brothers.

Lord,  _ how  _ did Hashirama fight this man? He was terrifying!

Tobirama, the only one who was looking at Sayuriama’s expression still, knew that something happened. Had expected something along those lines, as the Uchiha tended to have an effect on the best of people.

Tobirama wasn’t the most sensitive brother, and the most sympathetic award goes to Hashirama hands down. Still, when it came to observations, Tobirama was more than qualified to discern his younger sister's unusual demure expression. To his own amusement he saw his younger sister staring at Madara Uchiha, violet eyes surprised at being treated like a servant. Was it fear? Yes, she was awed. But something else. He rarely saw her looking so chastised. 

She had come in the same way a cat felt about chasing a handicapped mouse. 

The same way he knew he used to stare down in battle. Hayo, who was openly gawking, then switched to furtively giving longing looks that were equally ignored (much to Tobirama’s amusement) was nothing compared to the potential of this problem. A pang entered his stomach, and he suddenly wished that he had never bothered his sister that morning.

He wondered if he was getting her signals wrong, and hoped that it was just in fascination, but his young, beautiful, impetuous sister had the look of a huntress as she sat down across from him. She gave him a smile that said more than she probably meant. 

What Sayuriama wanted, she tended to get, and Tobirama felt a shiver of apprehension for her. She had never met a man like Madara Uchiha. He gave a slight smile which she returned with an even bigger one. He shook his head slightly, knowing what she may have been thinking. She placed her hands and tilted her head demurely. 

The hunt was on. 

Shit.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

“He didn’t look at me once.” Sayuriama said in wonder, detailing everything to Tsunada. The said women had not entered, and was rather confused, watching the young women who had been acting strangely since meeting the Uchiha. 

They were sitting on a bench by a small pond in the shade of a tree. Green rolled before them in this secret little garden in the village. 

Tsunada looked over at her charge, wondering who in the world she was talking about. She raised an eyebrow, thinking it was about times when Sayuriama said something reasonable. 

She had been silent since she had entered the room, the first person to leave- strange since she loved the intrigue of it all. She had skipped breakfast, changed into a lighter kimono and walked right out of the compound, much to Tsunada’s horror. Thankfully she was able to divert the wandering of the girl to their usual place that they went on walks, when Sayuriama needed to be alone.

“Are you talking about Lord Hashirama? Because if you are getting protective abou-”

“Don’t be stupid.” This earned Sayuriama a slap on the head.

“You’re the one being stupid, brat!” 

Sayuriama sighed, and fingered her hair, not even putting up a fight. Tsunada sighed then, and pulled Sayuriama on the ground in front of her. She then began braid her hair, in an attempt to reconcile. She hated it, because of the copious amounts of hair Sayuriama had, but the girl loved it. 

Something was seriously wrong when the girl didn’t make some sort of quip back. She seemed distant, as if she wasn’t really there, and her usually clear eyes were gazing at something unknown.

Sayuriama leaned back, enjoying her hair being played with. With a slight blush she wondered what it would be like if he did it.

Tsunada looked down, wondering why Sayuriama face flushing. “Are you sick?” Sayuriama looked up.

“No…. Yes…. Maybe. I don’t know.” Tsunada’s mouth opened, but then she closed it. Dare she imagine? Sayuriama slipped out of her straw zori shoes and wiggled her toes.

“I’m going to make him love me.” Tsunada dropped her hands, put them back up, and yanked her wards head back. “Then when I find out he had anything to do with Itama or Kawarama deaths, I’ll destroy him. Or I’ll end up marrying him. Preferably destroy. After all, I have to do something for Ita and Kawa...”

Tsunada grunted , turning to look the girl straight in the eyes.

“How many nieces do I have?” Sayuriama pursed her lips at the question.

“None. You’re were a single child.”

“What food you always ask me to make?”

“Tofu stuffed with Sushi rice.” Sayuriama said, confused.

“Least favorite?”

“Tsunada what the- OW! ROE! ROE! I hate fish ovaries!” Tsunada sighed. This was Sayuriama sure enough. “Don’t pull my hair like that, you heathen.”

“Alright. Last question. Who are you babbling about and why are you going to marry him? And who are you talking about with Itama and Kawarama?” A large grin spread on the smooth face, and her cheeks went pink. She looked like she was about to reveal a juicy secret.

“IF he who I hope he is, I will marry him. He’ll just love me for me, and not my beauty.” Tsunada looked down and snorted. 

Sayuriama’s eyes narrowed, the thick lashes glistening in the mid-day light. “It’s true!”

“Fine, fine. Now who is this man? Hayo Uchiha? You’ll probably forget him by the end of the week.” Sayuriama looked up for a moment, past Tsunada and smiled slightly, before looking back.

Sayuriama stood up, and Tsunada let her from her grasp. She let her rich dark hair fall its full length, and brush her thighs. She walked over to the pond, letting the light hit her, although she would tan easily. Tsunada didn’t think much of it until Sayuriama’s hands went to her obi behind her.

She slipped of her simple tie and then her Yukata Kimono, revealing the simple two piece undergarments beneath. Tsunada gasped, and ran over, but Sayuriama stepped in the water. The pond was smallish, but it was deep. As the old women attempted to reach her, she slipped, and fell in.

Tsunada shrieked. This wasn’t a popular place to visit, but  _ anyone _ could see them by accident. It was a public location. Then Tobirama would kill her for killing his only sister from the shame of it all.

Sayuriama’s head broke the top of the water. She had a grin on her face, and was laughing, hair in streams around her. Tsunada suspicions fled at the sight of a usual Sayuriama stunt.

“You brat! I’ll kill you myself!” Tsunada attempted to pull her out, but was grabbed and pulled in instead. 

“ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Sayuriama laughed, feeling as if she was on air instead of drenched in her under garments. It was warm, as it always was in Konoha during the day, and the water was deliciously cool.

She laughed even harder as Tsunada surfaced and drug herself upon the shore again.

“You little BRAT.”

“Hm. Don’t be like that, Tsunada.” Sayuriama smiled coyly, and Tsunada sighed. Even sopping wet the girl managed to look lovely, and it caused her to worry. She had been the one who had batted of suitors and had pretty much take all physical care of her since she had come home.

She performed the handsigns (Which Sayuriama watched closely) and Tsunada’s dried. Her clothes were still a little damp, but she was much more warmly appareled than Sayuriama. As the girl got out, her clothes were brashly sticking to her figure and making it all too clear what was underneath.

“BRAT, GET OVER HERE NOW!” Sayuriama snickered then went to the middle of the pond.

“Don’t I look good enough to ravish, Tsunada?”

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Hayo Uchiha jumped back, a trail of blood erupting from his nose. 

He hit into the opposite wall of the alley they were passing through, on their way back to the Uchiha compound. Hayo had stopped only for a moment to overlook a park for some reason, and Madara had obliged. There was some promising new shops, and he walked into a weapons shop entrance.

At the disruption, Madara found his subordinate in a most unusual position. Another embarrassing one. 

He narrowed his eyes, once again imagining ways that he would like to dispose of Hayo. How quickly would Clan the notice if Madara did displace him? Maybe it was worth the risk regardless.

Not once, during the entire meeting, did the horny little bastard take his eyes of the Senju sister. It was disconcerting to say the least, a dishonor to the clan, and even more to himself, and unusual behavior for even the usually demure Hayo. It had been effortful enough being, invited to an important meeting as this.

He finally let himself muse on the bet he made with himself earlier. He begrudged the fact that he had  _ almost _ lost that bet.

It had been that moment he turned, he would forever wonder  _ why _ Hashirama had invited this young girl. Was he playing a game? 

He saw the playfully dangerous glimmer in Hashirama Senju’s eyes as she entered. 

It would be a lie, a dangerous one at that, to say that she was not striking. If Madara had not had the prowess that Madara Uchiha was known for, he may have let himself take a long look, be impressed. 

She was, after all, very beautiful. Many women had wear and tear, scars, acne, and were in some way marred. Especially ninja women. She had all the marks of being very well taken care off, despite a few cuts on her hands, almost imperceptible. Strange.

But he did not want Hashirama to get him while his back was turned. 

It was somewhat painful, but the had smoothly turned to Hashirama and continued talking. He didn’t want to look at her again then, for it did agitate him that she was beautiful. Beautiful enough to make it desirable for another look, which was ridiculous. But as he left, he did steal another one. He even bothered to turn on his sharingan, taking in her pitiful chakra state, the fact she was obvious not a ninja, nor a strong woman. Despite her being a Senju, an outsider of the Uchiha, there was no way he could ever consider such a weak woman. 

Something inside him warmed. 

Madara steeled himself.

_ Traitor _

This could not be. He would not allow these feelings. The voice of  _ him  _ rose in his mind. There was no women, there could be none but battle that would entice him.

Hayo, that damn kid, fell into the trap. Hashirama was doing quite the low blow if he thought that he, Madara Uchiha, thought this was some sort of funny joke. 

But, If there was one thing Madara did learn from the young Uchiha, is that he would never look where Hayo did. He didn’t spare a passing glance to the gap in the gate Hayo had been looking through and kept walking, dragging the bedazzled shinobi behind him. There would be hell the pay on the training ground.

There was one thing that was interesting, Madara mused, as Hayo ate dirt behind him.

She had little to no chakra.

Despite being of the same Senju blood, she had been left devoid, empty of the great powers her brothers wielded. If it had been natural, he could accept that... but it seemed as though she had seals.

Incredibly strange.

Just what was the Senju sister hiding?

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sayuriama looked up, back to the overlook where she had saw the retreating Uchiha’s. Even revealed in this manner, Madara hadn’t given a second look, though Hayo certainly had got his fill. She stood there, dumbfounded, in a dirty pond, getting yelled at, while she watched Madara drag Hayo away.

She decided, then and there.

 

She WOULD have Madara Uchiha.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara felt a chill go down his spine. He brushed it off with raised eyebrow, not even seeing the girl.


	6. Scroll 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review and comments are always welcome, and often encourage the writing process!

 

**Scroll 6**

“So he likes looking as battle gear in his free time! Put it down!” Sayuriama animated said to the irritated women beside her.

“Lord Tobirama said to both us, just yesterday, specifically, to not bother Lord Uchiha!”

“We are doing no such thing! We are just _observing._ ” The older woman gave her a tired, worried look. “Just write it down Tsunada! Besides, Hashirama would want us to cultivate a good relationship with the Uchiha clan.”

Sayuriama grinned wildly, and jumped behind the corner as she saw the dark haired Uchiha turn. Tsunada sighed in exasperation, but she continued until she wrote the information down on the scrap of paper. It was difficult writing with the charcoal, and messy. “I doubt Hashirama had this in mind.” Tsunada muttered. As a proud old kunoichi, she was embarrassed. But this girl had her heart strings long before she came to the village.

But She had also been less than happy her ward had suddenly found a profound interest in stalking. Her new hobby.

And not just anyone either.

No, Sayuriama did NOT do things by halves. Tsunada have predicted a short mental affair to a man who clearly was pretended to disregard her ward’s appearance. Soon he would announce his love, than the headstrong female would be back to her usual stubborn state or shinobi worship and secret training. 

This could not the case, much to Tsunada’s horror.

_ Madara Uchiha.  _

She about died. 

Tsunada had to bite her lip as Sayuriama went out from behind the building and started following the Uchiha again. It was so obvious, and poorly done, that no longer did Tsunada wonder why Sayuriama was not allowed to even train a beginning ninja.

The spectacle no doubt would make Lord Tobirama want to die. 

Tsunada sighed, but played along. Madara had not looked seemed to care, and just simply at a random stall, clearly making stall keeper have a  fit of terror. She saw an eyebrow go up at the unprovoked fear.

Tsunada narrowed her eyes.

The only question on her mind still was why. 

Why hadn’t Madara confronted them yet? He HAD to know! There was no Sayuriama could conceal herself sufficiently.

There would be no good to come from a girlish infatuation the arrogant Uchiha leader. Great ninja, yes, no   doubt.  A kind man?

Ha. 

Tsunada, who had a more rational view, knew the stories about Madara, had seen the ruthless man tear down his enemies. There was no mercy, especially to those close Senju family members. 

He was a ninja with few compare, but there were always the whispers on the street. Whispers of  _ where his power came from,  _ of the death of his younger brother, and the cursed eyes he possessed. The things that the Senju clan members would never say in front of the main family, especially Hashirama. 

Of all people, Sayuriama chose MADARA UCHIHA to have a sudden fascination with. The Uchiha leader was practically defined by the fact he didn’t approve of Hashirama Senju and his decisions at almost every juncture. With her silliness now they would become the gossip- Tsunada could see the shame it would cause. Tobirama would not be happy.

A hand grabbed Tsunada’s collar and yanked her behind a fish stall. Tsunada wrinkled her nose at the smell, but the girl was too busy peeking through the stacked fish.

“Tsunada! It looks like he’s ordering Tofu, to go with the sushi rice! Do you think he likes  _ Inarizushi _ ?!?” She turned, and Tsunada tried to figure out a way to tell her that sharing favorite foods was not uncommon. She was interested that the man didn’t just send out lower clan members to make the order. Surely a clan leader had better things to do.

At Sayuriama’s own forceful request they had seriously dressed down, and both were wearing a wide brimmed farmer’s hat with hangings. She could have passed as regular.

Almost. 

She didn’t get nearly the amount of abject staring (People dropping what they were doing etc. at her beauty), as her face was hidden, but they were getting plenty from the obvious game they were playing.

All the sudden Sayuriama hit the floor, and smacked Tsunada down with her.

“WHAT are you-“ Sayuriama’s hand covered Tsunada’s mouth, and motioned with the other one for her to be silent.

“He just turned around….” She peeked back up, and slammed to the round again, looking like she was about to hyperventilate. “He’s coming… he’s looking straight over here… HE’s GOING TO FIND US?!?! I haven't thought of anything to say! MY hair, gods, I look terrible!” It was Tsunada turn to shut her ward up, which she did by smacking her with the thick paper book she was writing in. Sayuriama yelped and let go.

“Tsunada, that Hurt!” She whispered, but she didn’t attack back. She just peeked over the wooden fish stall to find the target. Tsunada, who by this time had the better vantage point tried to warn her ward not to go any higher, but it was ignored.

Sayuriama stood up, and her large brimmed hat accidently hit Madara Uchiha’s chin, surprising them both. Tsunada was dead in her tracks, kneeling like a moron. 

Madara put a hand to his chin, rubbing the spot where she had hit him. 

‘We’re done for.’ Tsunada thought. ‘He’s going to kill us and be done with it. If not, Tobirama will.’

“Ah, Sorry!”

Sayuriama, at first, didn’t realize who she had just smacked, and began profusely apologizing. The later stood back, and as Sayuriama got a good look at her victim, she stopped, the words stuck in her throat.

He was right in front of her. Somehow she lost the ability to speak and let her excuse trailed off.

“I must say, Lady Senju, you certainly have a way with hats. Not to mention your prowess in marketplace shopping.” He smirked devilishly, obviously expecting an explanation and the girl flushed a hot red.

A strong hand was leaning on the table, avoiding the piles of fresh fish, and it was dangerously near her own. Lady Sayuriama looked a little like a fish herself, mouth open in a circle to the sleek darkly dressed man, eyes demurely turned down. She noticed how tall and regal he looked, and just how ridiculous she was.

He must have been disappointed, as Sayuriama stood still, just staring down in humiliation. Tsunada looked in surprise. Sayuriama. Speechless? 

Shit.

Had she only known  _ earlier _ , Tsunada thought, that this wasn’t just a fascination. She was feeling something, if not something rational. She didn’t want to embarrass Madara... she wanted to impress him.

She liked him. That made Tsunada feel very cold. 

While Tsunada was not pleased by the situation she had to begrudging admit she knew why her young ward was interested. His long eyelashes stared down over the girl, a handsome sharp face, ready to say the most clever jibe, or move the conversation in whatever way pleased him. The Uchiha’s were a handsome lot. Only his raised eyebrow, mocking, made him unpleasant. He was not impressed.

But...

There was something about Madara Uchiha that was pure temptation -She got a most uncomfortable feeling at the thought- and Tsunada herself couldn’t deny that he was one of the handsome Uchihas. But she wasn’t impressed ny him, no, she had always feared him. All of those cursed eyes. 

“Lord Uchiha, How do you do?” Madara turned his gaze to her, and she knew why Sayuriama had frozen. His eyes were dark, like he could see straight through her. He gave a little smirk. “It’s rather unusual to see you placing orders yourself.

“I could say the same, Lady Tsunada,” He suddenly grabbed her hand and put his lips to it for a moment. Tsunada stiffened, and she saw the smirk he had at surprising me. It was so strange she couldn’t help but go into a fighting stance. “I believe I’ve seen you and Lady Senju around the market quite a bit this last week.”

Ah, so it had been a trap. He wanted to know if they would follow, and they had. 

Sayuriama face went even redder, as she stood a little straighter. Tsunada chuckled calmly and put her hands behind her back. Even though she was much older than him, she was warily charmed.

“Yes indeed. We try and support Konohagakure, and Lord Hashirama likes the person touch. The city is quite impressive, and I believe we have you to thank. Isn’t that right, Sayuriama.” Madara and Tsunada turned, and Sayuriama nodded at the opening, but she just flushed more. Tsunada raised an eyebrow. She had even given an opening for the clever Sayuriama to use, but she was like a shy nymph. 

People, walking by, seemed to slow their pace. It was known that Madara Uchiha didn’t make it a habit to converse with people on the street. Instead of continuing with the pointless small talk, Madara turned, as if to leave. He had seemed to accomplish his purpose; to cause the girl to feel awkward in a way that wasn’t to agitating to him. He clearly was sending a message. 

It might have worked, if Sayuriama had been less astute, actually listening. 

“It’s all for the clan isn’t it?” Madara said, and Sayuriama raised an eyebrow. Tsunada didn’t seem to catch it, but she did. Why did it sound like Madara…. Detested the idea? He looked at the stores, shops and stands for a moment, his eyes darkening into diamonds. 

Sayuriama admired the way he seemed to actual notice things. 

“Don’t you think, Lord Uchiha, that it’s also for you?” He looked her, and she suddenly realized that he was tall. It may sound silly, but with his commanding air, she wondered why on earth she had said something so…. Sentimental? Surely Madara Uchiha didn’t need her words of comfort.

He stopped, caught off guard by the intelligent question. He turned back to the silly girl, who was more perceptive than he may have realized ealier. 

He considered her question, pausing for a moment, and then really actually looked at her. Not just looked, but gazed as if he now had some genuine interest in her, rather than just wondering why they had been following him. His untamed ebony hair flowed in the wind as a breeze passed through. It was nothing to the stormy look his eyes had.

The blush that had faded returned. 

“Lady…. Sayuriama, is it? May I?” She nodded, then blushed. He had used her name in a more familiar term, rather than Lady Senju. Her name, which usually held little consequence when others said it, sounding very sweet in his mouth. Confidence finally returned.

“I would prefer, if you would just use my name. Lady becomes tiresome to hear.” She said, a little forwardly, taking of her hat. 

He smirked, actually raising both sharp brows, and the grin turned into a short laugh. Tsunada looked at the person's, surprised. It was so completely inappropriate, asking Madara openly to disregard formalities and treat her as a close family friend by using just her first name. She shifted in her kimono uncomfortably. Typical, Madara taking it in stride. He was not an easy man to shake.

“Heh. If you insist.” She nodded, smiling sweetly. 

“If that’s the case, then I assume that you would do me the same honor and simply call me Madara?” It seems as she would never loose the pink tinge over her face. It was one thing for her to be forward... But for a clan leader to reply in stride?

Oh, this man was good. 

“Oh course…. Lor-... Madara.” She bowed, letting her thick hair flow over her face.

“Then it’s settled, little Sayuriama.” He turned to Tsunada. “I still have some business I must attend too.” He held out his hand to Tsunada, and brushed his lips to it once again. Tsunada tried her best to smile.

“Of course.”

Sayuriama looked a little put out, until Madara turned, stepping a bit too closely to her. He smoothly took her hand and raised it to his lips, making the girl look straight at him. The charm of the situation left, and Tsunada felt a shiver.

“A shame, because you are rather lovely.”

Suddenly Madara’s eyes were extraordinarily menacing.

Tsunada saw the normal untouchable Madara was smiling openly at the blushing girl. Tsunada had been pleased to see that Madara was irratated, and ignoring their game. 

But now, who was the prey? 

The other market goers had stopped completely, especially when Sayuriama had taken of her hat, and watching in shock at the casual encounter that was anything but casual.

Madara may have been kissing Sayuriama’s hand, but he was looking at her perfect face which his intense obsidian. She smiling shyly back, almost like an invitation at she bit her bottom lip. It was to both of their surprise that Madara’s large hand, once he had stopped holding Sayuriama’s, went to a lock of her hair. 

He brushed a few strands back, smiling gently, like an older clan member. For a moment Tsunada’s heart almost stopped as it looked like he was going to lean in, placing a forbidden kiss on the young, bewitched girl.The moment was so fast Sayuriama blinked like the unskilled child she was. 

But he just smiled and turned, and walking the other way in mere seconds. His wild hair flowed gracefully as he walked down the street, and he turned a corner left them.

Tsunada blinked, then turned her glare to the people watching. Most unglued their eyes, and went about their usual business, but with some new, juicy, gossip. Stragglers continued to stare at the beautiful girl, not sure if they were more interested in her, or the unusual scene.

Sayuriama once again was frozen, until Tsunada took her hand. She grabbed it away, staring at the smooth skin.

“I am never washing this hand.” 

Tsunada raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help but chuckle, and dragged her ward away, back to the Senju compound.But, her face turned hard. 

“You  _ will  _ obey Lord Tobirama. You got what you wanted, now don’t bother Lord Madara again.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as he turned the corner, he used his ninjutsu which he to transport himself to several different training grounds, covertly, till he found an empty one. Once a suitable one was discovered, he lay back in the grass, long legs stretched in front of him, taking a moment to ponder just what might be the benefits of using this Senju girl. It was obvious that any time he dared the streets, she would find him. He smirked, knowing the awkwardness of the deceptively pleasant Tsunada Senju.

As irritated as he should be for being followed for the entire last week, he laughed. It was so poorly done, so obvious that it was comical, and she was not hard to gaze upon. Often he had been the one following her, as she was following a clone. 

It had been long time since he had laughed and felt that light. He did enjoy teasing her, bringing that red flush to her face. She had been so nervous, like a little bird following a falcon. He wondered if she knew how easily he could consume her. 

A thought flutter past him- He could teach her how to fly. Where on earth did that come from? Then, as he tempted the thought, he felt the pain, like a knife stabbing him.

_ Imposter _

His face darkened, jaw taut. Izuna.

When his younger brother had died, when life had almost completely entered into the shadows. The pain of it had never left him. He wasn’t so stupid to deny that the thought of Hashirama’s sister made him feel rather warm.

He despised that. 

It would be unbearable to form any connection to the clan that had murdered Izuna. To the sister of the man who ended any sentiment of emotion in his heart. He hated Tobirama.

He could use the girl to destroy him. If it came down to it, he would complete end the Senju brothers with this obvious weak point, the beloved, hidden sister.

This Sayuriama, who made him  _ feel. _

Feelings that remind himself of how he and Izuna used to act when they were younger; carefree. 

A darkness, deadly, crossed his face as bird crowed above him.

The smile returned at the thought at the young Sayuriama’s face when he caught her. He had to give that old Tsunada kudos for putting up with the stalking. Yet the Senju sister had been so adorable in her disguise, that simple kimono and farmer’s hat, that he couldn’t help but finally confront her. And though he meant to warn her off, it might have done the opposite, as he had discovered she was not as stupid as he thought. 

And he had to admit she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even in that silly disguise. Alluring for him to play her game, which he had with good humor. There was also reason behind this, he told himself, as he did it with conviction. He knew that eventually he would become accustomed to how disarming that face was. 

No doubt she felt isolated. Even her brothers must seem like strangers in this new place. The senju brothers never stopped working, and likely didn’t have much time to please such a young woman. A needy girl, likely not older than eighteen who found him fascinating. 

It didn’t surprise him. Often the most powerful men, or the beautiful women, were ostracized by others for that. They were feared and judged by what the normal eye could discern, underestimating the personality beneath. And, more than a few shinobi had let a lovely women that eventually lead them to darker paths.

She may have wondered if he was who her clan despised so well. Maybe Tobirama inadvertently sent her to him.  His mind went to her few words. She had seemed to gain courage when he showed a lapse of belief in the village.

_ ‘Is it not for you?’ _ Madara turned the question over in his head, as the answer should have been more obvious. It wasn’t a secret he wasn’t fond of the Senju-Uchiha treaty. He had been begged, and eventually, threatened by his own clan to accept it, he did. He almost let Hashirama kill himself, to cement the damnation. He felt a twinge when he should have been relishing in the revenge. 

Why did he stop Hashirama, the one man that could face him, from killing himself? They had a history, a bloody one. Madara shook the memories of the young boys they had been, so long ago. 

He was surprised at the girls perception. She may have been terrible at tracking him, but he was surprised when she questioned his answer, those eyes keenly bright. A better violet then Tobirama’s icy cool ones, so soft, with depth that a ninja lost long ago. There was composure under the girlish mask she wore so well. 

_ Sayuriama _ as she demanded. This Senju was from the same breed as Hashirama and that made him smile, as he put a gloved hand through his dark hair.

Not only that-

He had discovered more about her strange state of chakra; Seals, likely of the Uzumaki variety. He wondered if there was more to the Uzumaki clan coming then just diplomacy. Only the smallest whips could occasionally escape, and she had trouble in basic balance and coordination, though not from trying. His men had been quick to discover the girl often went to the training ground at night.

He narrowed his eyes.There was a moment, when he was looking into her eyes- those eyes that seemed just for him. Ones he craved to have on him again.

There seemed to be something there. He wondered just the Senju clan was hiding. 

“Heh. Sayuriama Senju, my dear. You may make this village treaty  _ rather _ interesting.”


	7. Scroll 7

  
  


**Scroll 7**

 

“So Sayuriama darling, pray tell me, why are you in the kitchen at this hour?” The said girl looked up, rice covering her face. Mito grinned at the adorable girl.

“Mito! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever, and we live in the same place!” Mito smiled, nodding. She was looking regal, as always, in her kimono, and she picked up a rag to hand over to the girl.

“I have been quite busy with the treaty negotiations.” Sayuriama took the napkin, wiping her face with rather smug grin.

“So tell me Mito, does that include a wedding date to my dear Lord brother?” Mito put her finger to her mouth. “Oh come on Mito, you used to tell me everything!”

“Sayuriama, the walls have ears.” She snorted.

“I doubt my brother is listening to your every move, especially at six in the morning when he’s already at training.” 

Mito smiled.

“You should really be more polite,” She put a hand to her forehead, “Who was the wonderful person who would sneak with you places? Help you get some of those less accessible scrolls?” Sayuriama’s eyebrow twitched. Mito was always so devious.

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Tell about those nights you would  _ sneak _ out? Hm, then maybe you shouldn’t mention my future marriage so casual. I am being careful. If the man who you want to propose knew YOU were the one manipulating him, he would no doubt run as far as possible.” Sayuriama mouth opened, then closed thoughtfully.

“How do you suggest a woman lures a man?” 

Mito looked at her young friend again, interest peaked.

“Do you have an interest? How unusual.”

“Ha. Don’t act like you don’t talk to Tsunada.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t give me details. She is being a bit to nice to you, from what I’ve heard. Now tell me.”

Sayuriama sighed.

“I don’t know… I either hate him, or adore him. It’s a terrible idea either way.”

“Is this where you have been going every night?”

Sayuriama’s eyes opened and she took a step back on the wood floor. Her messy hands raised in defense.

“No of course not. All I do it attempt to train, and you know it.” Mito smirked. She did know, but It was nice to tease the kid. 

Sayuriama seemed normal, Mito thought, but Tsunada herself had come to Mito. She hadn’t known the older Senju women for very long, but the fact Tsunada could control Sayuriama (To a degree), and had her trust made Mito trust her. And Mito wasn’t an easy person to gain trust with.

“Alright then, I’ll take your word than. Well, that’s actually what I’m here for.”

“You came to the kitchen to get a marriage proposal?”

“Hm. Yes actually.” Mito secretively implied. 

Sayuriama raised an eyebrow and tucked a stray strang back into her braided hair.

“You can do that?” 

Mito laughed. Sayuriama was taking the bait. “Being a fighter is nothing to being a woman. We can fight, but the best way to win a war is simple really. The same goes with marriage.”

“Tell me Mito!” Mito leaned in, her red hair falling over her shoulders.

“You want to know?

“YES! YES! PLEASE grace me with your wisdom!” Mito’s mouth opened, as Sayuriama’s hand went to her forehead dramatically. 

“You are a snot today- but I’m feeling kind.” Sayuriama stuck out her tongue in excitement, pieces of rice falling to the floor. “But first you need to help me make a lunch for Hashirama.”

Sayuriama blinked.

“What? That’s what I was doing.”

“Let me help. You know that Hashirama is hosting the contest today, and I wanted to make him lunch. It was much to my own shock when I realized I didn’t know WHAT he liked!” 

Sayuriama nodded a tear drop on her head.

“He’d not that hard to figure out. He can be kind of dumb.”

“Sayuriama...”

“Okay… But, do you think that even the Uchiha’s will be training?”

“Of course. They’re half of Konoha. Is there a particular reason you’re asking?” Mito smiled, knowing full well why the girl had gotten up early to make food. She couldn’t just show up around half naked men training.

Uchiha huh? Well, Mito wasn’t expecting that.

“Of course not. But, we might want to take extra...”

“How considerate. I’m sure the Uchiha clan will be grateful.” Sayuriama flushed a bit.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure that we can finally help make amends Uchiha, that’s all.” Sayuriama’s face went beet red, and took out another bowl and poured rice in it.

“You know, the secret to a man’s heart is through food.” Mito rolled her kimono sleeves back and joined in. She grabbed a pitcher of water and added a bit in.

“Do you think… Mito… that you can fall in love, but also hate that same person?”

“What do you mean? That doesn’t sound like an ideal romance” Mito turned and looked at the girl. She was focused on her hands and what she was doing, and put the rice onigiri she picked the bowl up and put it in the Koshiki to steam over the Umigamero.

Sayuriama had had quite the month. She was constantly on the lookout for a certain Uchiha. Occasionally when their paths crossed, he was aloof, but charming. She tried to be pleasant and cordial, but not too overbearing; but the Lord was always going somewhere, and he never lingered. It was infuriating. She gave the table a good wipe.  

“Can you see someone, and find yourself watching them- and not being able to tear away? You end up watching them, and then you start thinking about them, and you can’t stop? Then the cycle repeats? It’s like an addiction.”

“Hm.”

“It’s like... an addiction. You I have every reason to hate him, yet I can’t get him out of my head.”

Mito picked up a towel and washed her hands, considering the thought carefully. She walked over to Sayuriama, who was standing at the stove. She turned her around, and put a hand to her face to lift it, and noted how frustrated she looked. She looked into Sayuriama’s perfectly shaped eyes, full of conflict. 

“Sayuriama, calm down.” She looked desperately into Mito’s eyes, as if she could communicate all through her eyes.

“I can’t.” Mito smiled at the girl’s face. “I can’t do anything. I’m flying, but it’s a free fall.”

“I know.” Confusion. “But breathe.”

Sayuriama took a deep breath. Mito led her to the stool at the edge of the kitchen. 

“It’s normal.” A dark head popped up.

“Normal? What?”

“It’s clear you are infatuated.”

“Infatuated?”

“Yes, it usually comes before love. In your case, since you’ve never been particularly impressed with a boy, it’s probably a strange powerful thing.” Sayuriama looked dreamy.

“Did you have it?” 

“Of course. How do you think I fell in love with your brother?” Sayuriama blinked, then smiled.

“Then let’s get cooking! Tell me how food will transform my pathetic romantic life!”

“Alright, so what are you making?”

“Sticky rice balls, Oyakoden, and Inarizushi.”

“What a familiar treat. At least some things never change.” Sayuriama nodded.

“I wanted to make it myself.”

“Ah. How domestic.”

“Shut up. I  _ will  _ tell Hashirama.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

The field clanged loudly at a giant metal fan swiped away the think katana that was thrust it’s way. Gloved, skilled hands made the sword fly, and it embedded itself in the dirt nearly a kilometer away. 

Hashirama jumped back as Madara rushed him, hand signing flying, and wood erupting from the earth.

It only took Madara seconds to retaliate, the ground covered with fire. Both jumped back, eyes dark. Madara’s Sharingan didn’t miss a second. 

 

Then, the bell rang. 

Madara clenched his giant fan raging to hit the shinobi across, from him, but he stood back. They would continue later. Hashirama approached him, the stupid smile on his face.

“Lunch time, eh?” Madara just turned, looking at the field of men packing up from training below.

Hashirama was once again grinning widely, while Madara was glaring them on, daring the men to be late. The men made sure to keep a distance away. Madara was always in a terrible mood when he went to Hashirama’s training ‘sessions’ for the new clans, especially when he refused to let him spar. But Madara was incomparable when it came to tactics, and was needed, _ so he was here _ .

Hashirama did these gatherings to promote Konoha becoming one village, and not the several distinct clans that stayed separate. It seemed to be working for everyone but his Lordship Uchiha.

“Iro Yamanaka seems to be quite close to Chio Akimichi and Hiki Nara.” Hashirama said, turning to Madara.

“Their Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi clan were quite close before the treaty. It makes sense.” Madara replied cooly, a little emotionlessly, for giving such dirty looks.

“Should put their children on the same team, when we get the squads organized.” Hashirama said, and he turned to another man his Senju assistant, who nodded and jotted a note down.

Madara shrugged, feeling like it didn’t matter.

“ _ If _ we get our dear daimyo to agree to fund us. The Uchiha clan is… more than happy to lend the village funds, but we will need to get his support soon.” Madara thought wistfully that he had not sent a knife through the fat old man’s gut. Or just took his check book. The Uchiha were rich, maybe even a little more so than the Senju, but it was taking a toll in the Uchiha’s checkbook.

“We sent another messenger.” 

Madara nodded, already knowing.

“Do you think it will do anything?” Hashirama said, hoping that Madara would cool down. Hell, they had sent him, Madara, himself, and the guy didn’t break.

“I doubt he will be easy.”

“I’ve informed him that my younger sister is in Konoha.” Madara turned, raising a brow.

“Is that right” Was Hashirama  _ bribing _ the feudal lord with his sister? That seemed a little out of character for him. He raised his shoulders, as if he was feeling awkward.

“Well, Tobirama did.”

Ah, that explained it. 

“Well then. I hope Little Sayuriama is as steely as her brothers.” Hashirama turned to him, suddenly excitable 

“ _ Little  _ Sayuriama, Madara? I didn’t realize you were informal.” The Uchiha lord turned his head to his counterpart. His eyes widened at the thought of what he just said, telling Hashirama that he knew his sister informally. 

”Hashirama.” The man smiled, put a hand behind his head, giving a laugh.

“Yes, we  _ met _ in the market the other day. I seem to notice her following me.” 

Hashirama actually laughed.

“Ha! So she has a crush on you?” Madara turned to him, face less than kind. “No insult meant, it’s just you have a scary face!”

“ _ Senju.” _ He raised his fan, but Hashirama waved him down, making Madara’s eyes crease and narrow.

“I noticed that she and Tsunada were disappearing in the mornings.” Madara raised an eyebrow to look at the smily Hashirama. “Well, do you like her?”

Madara would one day kill this man.

“ _ What are you spouting Hashirama _ ?” His voice was all menace. Hashirama brushed his dark hair back over his shoulder and stretched out his arms, sensing his teasing had gone a bit too far.

“Look, if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I believe there are a few lovely ladies coming our way with lunch. Would you believe it? Sayuriama herself.”

Madara sneered and turned his head. Sure enough, there they were. It looked like they were carrying boxes. Madara narrowed in on the one in the middle with long dark hair. It wasn’t particularly hard to tell. The men had completely stopped as they passed by to stare blatantly.

Sayuriama.

“It seems like she brought an extra lunch. I wonder if she knows Tobirama was taking care of academy business.” Hashirama put a finger to his lips, innocently.

“ _ Hm _ . They seem to be ruining your practice Lord Hashirama.” Madara said, looking at the men.

“Yes. Don’t break her heart Madara too badly.” Hashirama said with humor, and bore Madara could hit him, he was off.

“Heh.” Madara turned, issuing orders. It took a little pushing to get them to leave, and daring them to dare stay.

By this time, the women had reached him, Hashirama talking with the Uzumaki women. Madara turned to leave, sliding a kunai in his pack, when a familiar lovely face turned to him, a little rosy.

Sayuriama was there, demure and lovely. She wore a pink cut out kimono over a bright green fabric. Her long hair had only been slightly pinned up, most of the long length gleaming in rivulets down her frame. Her eyes were bright, full of life.

Her cheeks were pink. 

“Please  _ Madara _ , would you care to join us? It seems like I made an extra meal.” Madara pushed his own dark hair back, about to say something, when he saw Hashirama’s shit-eating grin. It  _ was _ tempting, the way she was smiling, to believe that this was an innocent accident. There was a look in her eyes, one that she always seemed to have, that spoke miles. He moved his eyes down her face to the little spot where her skin meet fabric at her neck, and then it went back up to her lips.

The entire group, consisting of Sayuriama, Hashirama, Tsunada and Mito, were looking on for his answer.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you.” He tried to turn, but felt a soft hand on his wrist.

Sayuriama smiled coyly, and he raised an eyebrow

“That would be a shame. I worked very hard on this. Sticky rice balls,  _ Oyakoden _ , and  _ Inarizushi _ ? Would you consider, for my sake?” 

Madara smirked, much to his own surprise. What a stubborn sister Hashirama had. He actually did have plans today, and had no desire to spend free time here. But he glanced to her forearm, pearly in the shady sunlight. 

Well she did make half decent  _ Inarizushi _ . He sighed. She had been more perceptive than he realized, while she was stalking him.

Hashirama wouldn’t let him live it down he let let a girl chase him away so easily. 

“If it’s  _ Inarizushi _ , I wouldn’t want to offend.” As much as Madara didn’t like the situation, he couldn’t show anything to Hashirama. He put on his best apathetic face. He put his stuff on the grass, and moved to take a seat next to Sayuriama, much to her pleasure. Tsunada narrowed her eyes, sitting Sayuriama’s on her other side. The hostess passed the box over, and Madara took his, looking with subtle humor at the meal. Hashirama looked surprised, but grinned at how competitive Madara was. He couldn’t let any challenge go.

Sayuriama grabbed two pairs of two chopsticks and passed one over. She let her fingers lightly touch over Madara’s fingers and let go. Madara raised an eyebrow and then turned to the lunch.

Mito and Hashirama turned to one another, almost shutting the rest of their group out talking. Madara knew Hashirama was mocking him, in a ‘kind’ way.

Suddenly Tsunada gasped.

“Forgive me! I forgot the cups! I’ll go get them immediately!” Tsunada popped up and ran away. Hashirama and Mito turned for a moment, then went back to talking.

“Lady Sayuriama-” Madara turned to the girl.

“Just Sayuriama- or Sayuri.”

“What?” Madara raised an eyebrow at the tone. Sayuri put her chopsticks down.

“Not lady. I’m Sayuriama, or Sayuri.” She looked over, as if she dared him to counter her. Madara felt a slight heat on his face. He recovered, feeling playful. 

“Alright. I’ve learned my lesson than,  _ Sayuri _ . Only if it’s alright with Hashirama.” 

The said brother gave a slight nod, his grin already needing a few less teeth, Madara thought. “Why not?”

“And there, now it’s appropriate! Little Sayuri, your now like a sister to me.” He said rather sardonically.  

She frowned. He frowned. Why was she so difficult?

What a fickle creature.

“Family?” She said carefully.

He nearly dead panned into his food. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t say otherwise.”

Suddenly Hashirama and Mito stood up, and both turned to look.

“We’re going on a walk. Will you be okay Madara, if I leave this silly girl with you for a while?” Madara frowned, but shruged. Mito give Sayuriama a slight look, as if figuring out something, but the two walked away, lunch unfinished.

“… family?”

“Forgive me. I meant it as a joke. I know you are a lady, daughter of Senju.” Sayuriama put down her food, then pulled her long hair behind her shoulders.

“Back to the beginning?” She huffed, as if he was clueless, as if she not cryptic, and infuriating.

“What do you mean?” Madara was genuinely interested. He had to figure this creature out.

“You assume that I’m snobby.”

“You seem delicate, proud. Lovely, but not arrogant.”

“A lady... to protect.” 

“You are young.” He saw her clench her chopsticks despite the fact he was much older than her. 

“A girl?”

Madara nodded, not bothering to deny it. Sayuriama was the picture of what she was. Young, naive, unaware of the world. Her eyes were soft, and she had none of the reflexes of a warrior. His dark eyes seemed to travel down her neck to her collar bone. Untouchable, breakable.

He could destroy her, so easily. He smirked.

She smiled a bit bitterly and she picked up her chopsticks. She picked a piece of chicken out of the Oyakodon bowl, then suddenly turned, looking a bit shy again. 

He raised a dark eyebrow.

In a flash she drug the meat down in cheek, leaving a sticky trail of sauce.

Madara stared her, in disbelief, feeling the ooze of the sauce. 

 

But he didn’t feel the need to retaliate. Suddenly, he felt... calm. A finger smoothly rose to touch the sauce, as if she had left a kiss instead.

 

She grinned in the pleasure of her victory. 

“Delicate and innocent.” She smirked, letting her robes loose. “Careful, I am fairly immature.”

Madara then realized three things. 

First, She was an outrageous tease. He doubted anyone had ever gotten near breaking that spirit. He admired that.

Second, They were alone. Which wasn’t a problem until she leaned in and licked the sauce on his face.

“Hm. It does taste good.” Then she smiled and turned back to her food, almost like nothing had happened.

 

Madara didn’t wonder if she was talking about the food, or his cheek.

Third, she was attempting to seduce him. 

 

This little bird wanted to play a dangerous game.

  
  
  



	8. Scroll 8

**Scroll 8**

  
  


Madara leader of the Uchiha Clan, co-founder of Konohagakure, master ninja, and the possessor of the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan was close to doing something he would likely regret.

First, because if Hashirama had  _ any  _ inkling that Madara has even a sentiment for his sister, he would never hear the end of it. And the already cool Tobirama Senju may become even more of a pain in the ass. Tobirama may cause another war, just because he hated all Uchiha, especially him. And Madara didn’t have any lost love for him either.

He could  _ not  _ like this girl. She had be nothing to him, or a tool to get his way, leverage. 

But for once, the cold voice of Izuna was replaced.

Warmth filled him, a tinge of what he once recognized at being happiness. His insides seized, warred, and defied what he once knew was the path he would follow.

With a strike, he realized he  _ liked  _ the way this insignificant daughter of an enemy clan made him feel.

She made him feel... wanted. 

Trusted. 

How long since he had become so insecure?

Not only that, was here was a woman who was beautiful, desirable, and intelligent.

Smarter than she let on. 

He was about to attack the woman sitting next to him- This would not be the traditional excursion, but an entirely different battle, but he still would win. 

Did Sayuriama Senju realize just exactly what she was asking for? 

There was something off about this girl, and her manners. He expected the Senju women to at the least dislike him. And this girl, Senju to the core, whose family were victims of the Uchiha. She should despise him, yet she didn’t.

 

What was her game?

 

She bit another piece of a rice ball.

Damn that rice ball.

Madara blinked and gripped the bowl in his hands as hard as he dared, still cracking it.

He was the one who was supposed to be imposing and seductive, not falling for a  _ child  _ just because she was kind and wanted to know him. This girl,  _ Hashirama’s younger sister _ , had caused him to feel as an upstart youth, unbridled and untrained. For the love of the Gods, he was nearly thirty, compared to this girl who couldn’t be over eighteen. He grit his teeth.

Hashirama had to have set her too it. And he  _ left  _ this girl with him... Alone. Did he want another war? Did he not know how Tobirama- the other villagers saw him?

Madara narrowed his eyes and tore his eyes away to look at the field.

She leaned forward, so they were touching, trying to break him. He felt her pulse quicken, and his own blood roared.

He wanted her.

He didn’t even know her.

He even used his Sharingan for a moment to check. Her heart was beating fast, and honestly. She was nervous, but it wasn’t deceitful. Did she known she was playing with fire, a fire that would consume her so easily, one that could rip everything she loved away in moments?

He felt her breath at his neck, her head on his shoulder. So trusting, so kind, was she?

Heh.

They were alone, and had time. 

Hashirama and Mito had been gone for awhile and the watchdog Tsunada was nowhere to be seen or felt. It would only be seconds to cure this lust. To show her that she was wrong, and she should have never chased him. 

Her lips sighed, as if frustrated. She  _ could not  _ know that he was the one fighting a battle much worse.

Whether it was just the forbidden factor, which was quite appealing looking at it, or just the fact she was very, very beautiful, the proximity was maddening.

He taste her. See if those promises of her lips held true. Not go any further, but just a moment of ecstasy to relieve this tension. His hands were spread deceptively behind him, fingers crushing the ground.

With a cringe Madara remembered the old man. What had he said? Oh yes…  

“Relieve that sexual tension.”

The old man probably wasn’t referring to releasing it on his young relation, on a training ground… Was that old man some sort of prophet? How the old man would regret his foolish words if he knew.

He looked at the girl. She raised her long sleeves and rolled them up, revealing pearly white skin. Her kimono slid of the back of her neck, and she pushed her hair aside to let her neck show. Madara firmly took a slow breath. 

He was an Uchiha, the greatest clan in the world. He had mastery over himself, and no one, especially a young Senju woman, would tempt him.

He  _ was _ Madara Uchiha.

Then he turned to determined to either ravish or kill her.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sayuriama didn’t know what she was doing so wrong. Mito had told her, the  _ MITO _ , had told her that no man could resist a her if she simply was obvious about her affections. 

Madara raised his eyebrow. He had blinked at her teasing and went back to eating. He kept looking over, but more like  _ she _ was going to attack him. His arms were braced and he was tense, scheming. She felt like she had been clear- 

So why then was there no wooing back?

Sayuriama bit a rice ball slowly, pondering the thought. Was Madara  _ impervious _ ? He couldn’t be? 

Maybe he already had a lover.

Hm. She hadn’t thought of that. 

Maybe a he liked...  _ men? _ From the intel she had gathered, Hayo Uchiha funded, she had surmised that Madara was just… 

Introverted.

Silly as it seemed, he acted like he didn’t care, but it was more of he didn’t want anyone to get close. Dedicated to his clan and the preservation of the Uchiha line. Was it because she was Senju? 

She had to have him, because if he didn’t love her back, she could never move on, or decide if  _ she  _ liked or hated him.

Or both.

Maybe not even Mito could conceive of a way to overcoming Madara Uchiha’s emotional barriers. 

She has more a reason to hate him, as two of her brothers had died, but she couldn’t reconcile that with this man who seemed more ready to defend his clan rather than living.

She admired him- she knew that at least. 

She set down the sticky rice ball, feeling awkward. He was staring at her, and she looked down to the food, adjusting her clothes to make her feel less conspicuous. 

She should follow what Tobirama had practically ordered her to do, the first day seen had seen the tall cool Uchiha Leader. 

“Stay away from Madara. I don’t care how else you make my life difficult,  _ do whatever else,  _ but don’t get involved with that bastard.”

He really didn’t care for him. But she couldn’t help it.

 

Sayuriama pushed her long sleeves up. It was so hot here. Her hair was also sticking to her neck. She had  _ told _ Tsunada that it was too warm to wear a kimono like this. She reached back, exposing her neck, trying to not focus on the man next to her.

 

All that time wasted.

Why the hell did he have to be so mysterious? She rewound that thought. That was the very reason he was attractive, wasn’t it? He was mysterious. Even now. She raised her face to Madara’s surprised at the intensity he was looking over with. The adrenaline rush his very eyes caused her was unfair. 

To her surprise, his eyes went red. She shuddered visibly, his eyes like flame. It was terrible.

He leaned in, and she leaned back but stopped herself. 

She bit her lip. The hearty scent of sweat and dirt was there. He had been training at some point, which she envied.He was a cut figure, good looking in all black. The heat seemed to have little effect on him, and his face didn’t change expressions. His eyes stayed lidded.

His arm grabbed she was be at his mercy.

Then his face was next to her.

Their noses touched for the slightest instant, and he paused, chuckling. In a flash he was leaning over to her, her beneath him. His sleeves were short and his arms didn’t spasm at the pressure. There was the slightest breath on her face, and he used a gloved hand to pull her face up, to look at him. Sayuriama felt her cheeks on fire, her heart beating excitedly. Her lips parted as his face came in, feeling a hand on her thigh. A breathless sound came out.

“Did you lose your voice, little bird?” He said huskily. She bit her lip, which made him narrow his eyes, turning them molten hot, having an ardor Sayuriama didn’t realize he possessed.

No, this man simply wasn’t a cold, dispassionate killer. Everything he felt reached to his core, for a moment Sayuriama realized how deep he ran. This was not a heartless and unfeeling man.

Madara stopped when he saw the look in her eyes, a look of tenderness. Had she been  _ anyone  _ else, he would have killed her. Oh, how those eyes beckoned him, the siren call.

She raised a hand to grab one of wild locks of hair, raising it to her mouth. A gesture of acceptance. Affection that had no strings. 

He saw her closed eyes, then leaned in as her hand moved to grab his face.

  
  


“Sayuriama!” 

 

He was suddenly away from her, face very dark. He was very much upset, mouth twisted. He stood, clearly going to walk away.

Her heart twisted.

“I like you.” She blurted out, much to her horror. Her cheeks turned red once again. 

Madara stopped.

Then he look at her as if she was as low beneath him as the dirt.

“Heh, stupid girl. It was a mistake for you to think I was doing anything other than teaching you to not be so open in your affections.”

She was shaking, and he raised a mocking eyebrow, lips sneering.

“Has no one ever told you how weak you are? Don’t mistake- You have no way of gaining any worthy man’s attentions. You are merely a face.”

He suddenly disappeared, leaving her to digest the cruel words he had not spared her.

To teach her.

She was shocked at the exit, and was trying to understand what happened. She never felt so rejected, so disturbed. 

To Sayuriama’s mortification a slight pressure built behind her eyes…

Because it was true. 

 

And what was worse, is she  _ craved _ his good opinion. A lone tear fell down her face, and she knew that as much as he did not deserve it, she liked him.

She took a deep breath. 

So Stupid! Why had she said that? She hardly knew him. But she felt it, or what she supposed was love. It was no good. He thought to simply teach her a lesson. She was so beneath him that even the idea was spiteful.

By the time Hashirama and Mito had reached her she had sat up with a doleful look on her face. Mito bit her lips, knowing that look.

Hashirama laughed.

“So you scared Madara off, Sayuriama? He even used ninjutsu? You must have been terrifying.” He smiled, in good humor. 

Sayuriama burst into tears, and in utter mortification, ran off at a quick pace. A very confused Hashirama moved to go after, but was stopped by Mito. Sayuriama disappeared into the woods.

“I’ll go. Where will she be at?”

“By that pond or on top of the mountain.” 

Mito ran off with surprising speed, especially for wearing such a kimono. At her disappearing figure, Hashirama couldn’t help smile. Despite his sister strange moods, the day had been good. He had just proposed to Mito, and she accepted.

“A prosperous marriage indeed. Already paying off.” He said to no one in particular, then went back to the picnic, most of it unfinished. He sighed, formed a hand sign. A basket, made of wood, formed, and he put the leftovers inside. Tsunada would be devastated.

Hashirama put a finger to his lips. 

“That’s the fastest her run. Didn’t fall once.” He said to no one in particular.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara gasped as he appeared just outside the gates to the Uchiha compound. He didn’t teleport directly in because of the seals placed for protection, but he jumped the gate to quickly for most to notice. To his surprise Hayo was outside, on guard. His personal puppy. Yet, he hadn’t seen him much since...

Ah. Yes. Since Sayuriama. His punishment was a consistent round of guard duty that left him little time.

He twitched in discomfort and tried to walking right past the man, who obviously wanted to talk to him. This tension was literally going to kill him.

“Lord Madar-” He cut himself off at the glacial look Madara gave.

The boy stood stiff as a board, and Madara flew past him. Hayo eyes widened at the dangerous mood. What was that distasteful? Hayo, though he was smarter then Madara gave him credit for, could never have figured out or understood Madara; and as a matter a fact, that’s one of the reasons Madara let him become his puppy. Madara had a tendency to surround himself with people who could never have understood what drove him, and the stranger thing was that usually the relationships worked out. If all one expected was business, that’s all one got.

That’s one thing about Hashirama that Madara hated. He had the ability to keep everyone close, get business done. He still had his family. He had everything he ever wanted.

Sayuriama Senju.

Madara was used to the soul aching process of discovering what he was feeling. 

The girl. 

Well, one mystery was cleared- there was likely no mysterious motive on her side. The girl was simply infatuated, open and innocent. Bold but not really knowing what she was doing. He knew she had gone in over her head when he was on top of her.

Then, foolishly, she said  _ she likes him.  _ Well, he wasn’t about to doubt her, but it was a stupid, reckless thing to say.

Ridiculous. Absolutely distasteful. 

Yet, despite that, she was admirable. She didn’t back down from the challenge, despite being aware he could simply  _ take  _ what he wanted. She was persistent. And that pluck, oh indeed he enjoyed that pluck. Not in the least the devastating beauty which she likely had little idea how to control. But it would take more than that to break him. 

She was no ninja, that was clear. 

But she reminded him of a Izuna, the young Izuna who everyone called a waste. Hidden potential that no one could see. Only him.

He bet she’d sacrifice much for her family. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be what Izuna might have been, if he’d not been consumed by battle. 

 

He tried to be distant. To save her from him.

An undeserved leniency she wouldn't accept- he had bedded too many women without giving them that chance.

What the  _ hell _ was wrong with him?

He was becoming obsessed with her. He did his best to not, but he listened closer when she was mentioned. Madara sat down on the bed, almost breaking the frame. One could almost see the wheels in his head turning at an unbelievable rate. He would push her away. 

_ Traitor _

As if right on cue the voice return. Madara snarled at it, punching a hole into the wall of his room. He could not just give in.

His hands went to his head.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. Lady Senju was in the way of his plans. He was vulnerable to her tactics, distracted. 

Shit.

He sat up suddenly, and pushed himself of the bed with his muscled arms. This was a simpler problem than he thought. All he needed to do is leave, and regain himself through other means. 

This was not the time to lose focus.

He took a deep breath, removing his hand from the wall.

A whore then.  _ That _ woman.

Not something he usually resorted to, but what in the hell would stop this hell?

 

_ Liar _

 

Madara didn’t realize until after that he had punched another hole in his wall. He had never been so unstable. 

 

Shit.

But it was the best shit he could plan the moment. He grabbed his pack and started dressing, as if for battle.

He was out of the village, miles away, when a thought struck him. When he was around her, that  _ voice  _ didn’t speak to him as much.

Izuna anger from beyond the grave seemed to fade.

 

He didn’t stop running, but he didn’t stop thinking about that either. 


	9. Scroll 9

**Scroll 9**

 

Sayuriama had calmed down. As a matter of a fact, it would be remarkable how soon she regained herself. She did not linger over sorrow well. Which may have been due to growing up with Hashirama. She sighed, a hand under her chin, looking out over the valley, finally alone as she felt.

When Mito reached her, on the top of the mountain, she was unsurprised to see the beauty sitting in the dirt (In her kimono, God forbid) doing what looked like a meditation exercise. The great expanse of the city lay beneath, now busy with people. 

“Are you okay?” Sayuriama didn’t turn to look at the women behind her, didn’t answer.

Mito was a bit more ruthless than Tsunada when it came to Sayuriama wild feelings. Mito understood, but didn’t let the girl run wild. “What happened?” She demanded.

Sayuriama closed her eyes, putting her face in her hands. Mito was quick to walk forward, putting a hand on her back.

“You had us feeling frantic. Please tell me.” A voice, still a bit shaky, finally answered.

“He  _ hates  _ me.” 

Mito put a hand to the diamond mark on her forehead, a common habit. “You’re talking about Lord Madara?”

Sayuriama scoffed. “Obviously.”

“He doesn’t really like many people.” Mito said, confused. “I wouldn’t take it personally- you are a very good conver-”

Sayuriama stood, hair streaming down her back. She turned to the red haired women, frustrated and hurt.

“No, the tree.” A cynical look. “YES, of course it’s Madara Uchiha!” She walked to the edge of the cliff, arms crossed. “It’s always about the stubborn jerk.”

Mito crossed her arms, suddenly feeling much less confident. 

“You mean to say that the man you have been trying to impress is Madara Uchiha?” Stubborn silence. Mito gave a wave, and put her hand to her head. “Well no wonder you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Shut  _ up _ , Mito.”

“Should I ask what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“I not going to emphasize how much of a lie I believe that is.” Mito’s voice was rather flat, and she found a stump to talk this out.

“If continue to aggravate me, I’ll have to ask why you're right bun is messy, and your tiara is off center. I know what you and my BROTHER did on your ‘walk’.” 

Mito’s face went red, and she was standing before she new what she was doing. Her inner-self almost took control and moved to throw the girl of the mountain, but she stopped. Sayuriama was transparently in an abysmal mood. 

_ Madara Uchiha.  _ That explained a lot. He was not an easy man to like, much less have your first crush on. Suddenly, all the advice she had given the girl seemed like a good way to get killed. 

“Did you use... uh... the techniques I taught you on him?” The girl nodded slowly, an angry flush on her face.

“No offense, but they didn’t exactly work out.” Mito rolled her eyes, but walked over and gently sat down. Sayuriama finally followed suit. 

“What happened? I can’t help if I don’t know.”

“I… used... food to create a more intimate environment?” Mito blinked. 

“And he was so offended by basic teasing that the great Madara Uchiha ran off?” Mito raised a brow. That didn’t seem right.

“It escalated.”

“Did you had sex with him?” Sayuriama’s eyes widened and dark ‘horror’ lines appeared.

“OF COURSE NOT.” Mito grinned, in control, satisfied with the response.“I would NOT! I didn’t even kiss him!” 

“You said he hates you.”

“Yes, seemed like we were about to kiss... I was going well...” Mito nodded, figuing that her and Hashirama may have been too hasty.

“Well, he seemed alarmed, then a seemed to switch. I could have sworn he actually wanted to kiss me!”

Mito nodded. “Continue.”

“He got super upset. Then... I said something stupid and he got angry.”

“What did you say.”

“...”

“I assuming it was some form of declaring attachment and affection?”

“I said ... I liked him.”

“A first with Madara.” Sayuriama sighed in exasperation at the joke, but ignored it.

“Along those lines. I really didn’t mean to say it.”

“Likely you felt it. And he likely was overwhelmed, misunderstanding.”

“But, he was so cruel after. He called me  _ weak,  _ and naive.” Mito flinched at the words, feeling the pang. Madara had the ability to sense weakness and cut to the core. Agitated or flustered, he had been able to cut Sayuriama where it would hurt her the most.

“I’m sorry. He was wrong.”

... Sayuriama frowned, eyes full of tears again.

“But he wasn’t Mito. I am stupid. All I have to offer is my face.” Mito was on her feet, hands on the girl’s shoulder. 

“I don’t care what  _ Madara Uchiha  _ thinks- he’s wrong. We all have weaknesses, and he’s  _ mistaken,  _ if he thinks he is invincible. But one thing is sure.” Mito stared into her eyes, sharp and full of fire. “Your are much stronger than he even can imagine.”

“But... Mito..”

“Sayuri, affection is not a weakness. It’s what makes life worth living.”

The beautiful girl turned.

“We love you.”

And for the first time, she gave a small smile.

“I guess I’ll just have to move on.”

“Love isn’t as easy as I make it seem.” Sayuri narrowed her eyes at that answer.

“You know what you can do Mito? You can go-”

“Get married?” She said softly.

Sayuriama stopped dead. She looked straight at the women, attempting to find the right emotions. After a few moments a grin broke out, forgetting the misery, and Sayuriama wrapped her arms around the women.

“SISTER!”

“Heh.”

“CONGRATULATIONS! I AM SO SORRY.” Mito grinned and pushed the girl off. Sayuriama’s face went dark again. “Oh my gosh Mito! I’ve ruined the first day of your engagement!” A tear trailed down her face. “I’m SO SORRY! I was so upset that I-“

“Calm down. It’s understandable, and since this is your first love, it’s to be expected.” Sayuriama blinked.

“First?”

“First romance, love, or whatever you’d like to call it. Even though it hurts right now, it will get better.”

“Will he regret his words?”

“No. But you will move on regardless. Madara Uchiha is consumed by his demons. It is not you that he hates, nor that he will spite in the end.”

Sayuriama hugged Mito. Mito who was going to be her sister. “It will pass?” Sayuriama clutched at her chest. “I feel like nothing will be right. Like there is no point in moving on.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just give it some time.” Sayuriama stepped back and adjusted herself.

“Let’s go meet Hashirama. You can tell me the details on the way. Except nothing gross or perverted. He IS my brother.”

Mito smiled. “As if I would. You keep promise to not linger on Madara Uchiha and I will keep my promises.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
  


Hayo Uchiha, after a quick search, found Hashirama Senju walking through the town, inspecting it. It was common for him to use his Wood Ninjutsu to reinforce the structure or build a stand (A rather memorable incident concerning a Ramen stand came to his mind.). Hashirama, used to the Uchiha smiled as he came closer.

“What can I do for you Hayo?”

“Lord Hashirama, Lord Madara has instructed me to tell you about his recent plans. He will be unable to attend today’s competition.” Hashirama nodded slowly, wondering at this change.

“That’s unfortunate. I know that the participants do better when he is watching. May I ask what is taking him?”

“He is leaving for the inspection early.” Madara and Hashirama regularly took turns touring the Land of Fire, and the people in it. Madara for military purposes, and Hashirama to help build and cultivate relationships for Konohagakure.

“This early?” Hashirama frowned, crossing his arms.

“He is aware it was scheduled for next month, but Lord Madara seemed to feel as if an early inspection necessary. He’s already left….” Hayo trailed off, a little embarrassed at Madara’s abrupt exit. Madara was usually reluctant to leave the village, and did everything to stall the dreaded visits, but he was practically in and out this time, yelling instructions. He asked the Elders, who approved. Madara had left Setsuna Uchiha in charge (Hayo frowned at the thought) and was gone. That transportation Jutsu was sure handy. 

Madara was being very short in making Hayo come and tell Hashirama.

“That’s fine. It’s a first for Madara to leave so  _ unplanned _ , but I trust his decisions.” Hayo nodded and the men exchanged goodbyes. Hayo walked away, and a grin suddenly lit his face. A month without Madara. No getting shoved around. 

His grin got bigger.

Lady Sayuriama.   
Lady Sayuriama alone for a ONE month.

 

Hayo may have been grinning, but when Hashirama found himself alone of a street he frowned. He was brilliant when it came to war strategy, but suddenly, he felt distressed. Besides worrying over what the hell was he going to tell Sayuriama, Madara was never one to just run away. What was going on?

Maybe he would leave Sayuriama to his bride to be… No he couldn’t do that to Mito again.

He grimaced and prepared for an awful month. 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

It was to Hashirama’s surprise that Sayuriama took the news without a word. She, who was always talking, congratulated him, took the news and went to her room. He and Mito were left alone. 

That went well. Not like Sayuriama at all in her temperament. Maybe Mito had gotten through to her.

Unfortunately, it was the calm before the storm.

It was the freak out that Tsunada had, finding Sayuriama leaving the compound in light Shinobi war attire with a packed bag and ninja scrolls, that caused a roar in the Senju household. 

Sayuriama, in a direct, forceful manner, attacked her guardian with a surprising ability, and nearly got out. Fortunately other members of the household had heard. The other Senju members came rushing out and Sayuriama was overpowered. It shouldn’t have been a difficult task for Tsunada to overpower her, but she was traumatized by the betrayal.

Which is why Hashirama found himself in one of his more depressed moods.

Tobirama looked, angry, at his wily sister, had just finished tying an arm to her bed- to make sure she didn’t try and make a run for it. He had done it gently, but he was muttering what sounded like plans for torturing prisoners of war. Sayuriama’s beautiful face, now sans a mask, had a look of straight up defiance. She wouldn’t look over at either brother, and Hashirama had asked Mito not to intervene. It was awkward, but in a way, reminded him of the young Sayuri before they had parted ten years ago. He sighed, hoping that she had grown out of this.

“Sayuri, what on earth were you doing?” He said. 

Tobirama was now looking through the pack that Sayuriama had been packing. It was to both of their surprise at the ninja equipment she had. Normally Sayuriama wasn’t let anywhere near the ninja tools, due to her amazing ability to cause damage worthy of a tailed beast.

“At least we could fight the tailed beasts,” Tobirama said angrily. “How does one deal with this? In our own family.”

Tsunada was outside, sitting in the hall crying hysterically.. It was Tsunada’s screams that had saved the day. After the ‘betrayal’ Tsunada had told the brothers everything. The night practices, Madara, and well, everything that was anything.

Tsunada had finally broke about Madara Uchiha. 

Tobirama was furious, and Hashirama very frustrated. Hashirama had know about it, but he hoped she wouldn’t abuse the freedom he had given her.

“I guess this explains those nights you didn’t tell off the suitors.” Hashirama said with a certain amount of humor that made Tobirama look even more upset. Sayuriama glared at the window. They reminded Hashirama slightly of the Senju mother, and he slightly recoiled.

“I think that this means we haven’t been very good brothers.” Sayuriama tilted her head away, and Hashirama began to sense the shame Tobirama’s words created. “As a matter of fact, Hashirama, where our young willy sister is concerned we may be the worst ninja in this god-damn village, trusting her.” 

Hashirama frowned. There was no need to Tobirama to continue, but sometimes only his words managed to get through to the sister. He tried waving him down, but Tobirama ignored him.

“You have likely caused the Uchiha serious trouble! We’ll be apologizing for years.” Tobirama alleged his voice humorless and cutting. It was Sayuriama’s turn to wince. She looked away and her dark hair fell forward over her face. She had been dressed in a male ninja’s traveling outfit, sans the thick Senju armor. “No wonder Madara took off so early. I can only imagine what would have happened if he found  _ you  _ following him.”

Finally, Hashirama cut him off.

“Were going to look for Lord Madara, Sayuri?” A shiny trail ran down Sayuriama’s lower face- Sometimes Hashirama’s kind calm anger was much worse. 

The said brother sighed, then turned to the white haired brother. “I’ll handle this.”

Tobirama snorted. He obviously thought Hashirama would be too sympathetic, but left anyway taking the bag with him. He stepped outside giving orders.

After a moment the sounds of Tsunada crying died, as she was led away.

Hashirama and Sayuriama remained alone for a time, neither talking. They were not very alike, Hashirama mused. She had been much more like Itama or Kawarama, eager to jump in and fight. After they had passed, their mother had grown an iron grip on the young girl until she died. Tossed like a kunai, the chains passed from to the Uzumaki clan, then to him.

Hashirama walked over to the bed and untied his sister. She made no move, even when Hashirama took the rough tie off her arm and tossed it away, to the dirty wood floor. He sat next to her, the bed groaning under his weight, and pulled her forward to his chest. She fell into it, and her silent tears turned into wild sobbing. He pulled a hand through her hair, pulling the locks out of her face. His other arm wrapped around her, stroking her head.

They, the Senju brothers, had not taken good care of what was most precious. 

“I didn’t…mean…mean to wreak….wreak today... …I… I. Didn’t know…what to ...to ...to do. If.. I st..stop… I …I will…. I was... I was not going after him...” Hashirama took a breath. He had never EVER dealt with anything like this. Still, he was pretty keen. “He HATES me... I was... going to go train at the sound temple.”

Some temples in the country of sound, were in fact an all women's ninja clan. They accepted all females who took an oath.

“So you felt the need to escape like a criminal?” It was ridiculous. She would have no chance of getting there.

“I ... I wanted to move on. Not still be here, to be hated. I want to be strong. ” Hashirama frowned. His sister had always taken her inability to fight hard. “I want to show  _ him  _ I’m not a weak girl.”

Ah of course. he would have hurt her tender feelings, likely to protect his own. How confusing a man like him could confuse her.

All this over Madara Uchiha.  

He let her sob for a few more minutes. With a bit of humor, Hashirama remembered asking Madara  _ not  _ to hurt his sister feelings. But it seemed like this was less his fault the Sayuriama’s. 

He was disappointed. He didn’t really wish for Sayuriama, too young and silly, to really attract Madara’s romantic intentions, but he did want for her to like him. So few people understood and trusted the Uchiha clan leader that he hoped a little attention would help him understand that old anger could be breached.

Finally, he spoke.

“Sometimes, the best thing is patience but it’s also the most painful. I remember thinking that Mito had no interest in me, and it killed me to see her go back to Uzushiogakure.” Sayuriama shook slightly, but lifted her pretty face to look at Hashirama’s kind one.

“I …. I… was afraid. Afraid when I came we wouldn’t be close like we used to be. I was scared. And things  _ have  _ changed. Nothing is the same.”

Hashirama realized that maybe he hadn’t been as attentive as  _ he _ should have been. She was a delicate girl who needed her family, but the village was just so time consuming he didn’t seem to stop, leaving Sayuriama alone for hours, no friends her own age and gender. She must have fixated these feelings to Madara. It wasn’t easy for her to make friends.

“I don’t always know what goes on in Madara’s mind, even though I’ve wished I did. But, I can make a reasonable guess.” He patted her back. “Sayuriama, I do know that Madara doesn’t hate you, trust me. I know for a fact he wouldn’t have stayed a moment longer, even for the sake of appearances, if he felt as such. The fact he stayed, now THAT is a miracle.” Sayuriama grasped Hashirama’s Kimono top.

“He.. Left… Said horrible things!”

“He left for business.” Secretly Hashirama felt that it was for Madara to sort HIMSELF out. “And he’ll be back, probably in record time. He’ll soon realize what silly situation this is. Maybe when you’re older, and he’s better settled into the village, there could be something, if you still feel the same way.” Sayuriama pulled back, knowing that her fantasy had been that; fantasy.

“...”

“Fine. He’ll kidnap you and take you to some quaint village and marry you. Then I would be forced to challenge him.”

“Mito would kill us all.”

“You. She has to marry me before she gets me! Now Sayuri, if you left, who would help Mito plan the wedding?”

“Definitely not you. You would be the one doing the wedding tonight if you could. You’re terrible at formality.” Hashirama almost went to the floor in misery at her opinion of him, but he popped back up. 

“Exactly, now promise me,” Hashirama and Sayuriama looked into one other’s eyes. “Promise me, sister, that you will torture me every day till I get married with wedding preparations, and not go on some mad journey. No running away, or secret ninja practicing.”

“Ok.” 

It was almost inaudible.

“Or asking Senju cousins and family to train you.” She blushed. So he  _ had _ known. 

Sayuriama leaned forward into the wet spot on Hashirama’s shirt. Hashirama was about to sigh and do some serious wood cage ninjutsu. If Sayuriama didn’t promise, than she had no intention of staying, and he’d have to worry.

“Every day, I’ll make it hell.”

He smiled, giving a laugh.

“That’s what make the good times so sweet. Let’s go to the competition.”

 


	10. Scroll 10

 

**Scroll 10**

 

It was gossiped that Sayuriama Senju was particularly beautiful at the first Annual Konoha Contest. Though Hashirama’s wedding announcement caused a roar of excitement in the clans of Konoha, nothing was quite as sensational topic as Sayuriama Senju.

Dark hair pinned, in a light yellow kimono, she seemed the bright future of the village.

Hayo Uchiha, the surprise winner of the night, caused the gossip. He denied the prize, and had asked for something astonishing instead.

The prize, a high position in the military, was definitely something that most men would patter at grabbing, but none begrudged the surprisingly gutsy request. What they did hate was the fact they hadn’t thought of it first. The people could hardly believe what they were witness too, and the ones who hadn’t gone, cursed their bad fortune.

Hayo Uchiha had simply asked for a kiss from the beautiful Sayuriama. Hashirama had been surprised as the lovely girl simply leaned forward, a chaste kiss on victor's face. Tobirama rolled his eyes.

He had also received the position.

And ever since, Hayo had occasionally called on the beautiful young woman.

Rumors swirled, as they often did, around Sayuriama, and many shed her in a frivolous light. A girl, who was rather fickle.

Those who knew her knew better could only shake their head. Although it seemed as if Sayuriama was quick, those in the Senju clan had never seen such a dispirited Sayuriama. Walking around like a ghost, not talking, barely eating? Not Sayuriama at all.

But the wedding soon overwhelmed the lives of those in the Senju clan, and Tsunada was back to watching her ward, despite the previous threats by Tobirama to chain Sayuriama up. The girl matured. Time passed, as it does, and the month was getting closer. The wedding loomed closer, and the return of Madara did also.

Tsunada pulled a brush through Sayuriama hair, running it through the brown locks, gentler than usual. Sayuriama lay on her lap, apparently on Tsunada’s good terms again, more docile and sweet then Tsunada had ever seen her.

Hashirama had also made good on his promise to watch more often on the tender girl, and she blossomed with the increased attention both brother gave her. Even Tobirama came around from his anger over the Uchiha crush, and have started putting at the head of some of his projects. She had thrown herself into the various projects, especially teaching calligraphy and writing at the new school. After all, Sayuriama was better read than most ninja, having more time. She shocked the Sarutobi clan, at her ability to speak their native dialect. She knew several languages, because she had various tutors in the Land of Whirlpools.

Not only that, but she began teaching about the world, one she began to dream of visiting. The giant mountains in the land of earth, amazing storms in the land of lighting.

She was also a damn good debater. She left many a wild child with not only a good chastisement, but the desire to go back for some more. She also had lead many a man who would woo at her window into the arms of a different girl. Which meant she began to have some female friends outside the Senju clan. Still not all liked her, but it didn’t matter as much.

And she knew more than a fair share about ninja, jutsu, and hilarious family stories and made her popular for her wit.

The classes were enormously successful, and the small fee eventually ended up paying for a new school in Konoha. The clans began to become more friendly through the educational diversions, and it couldn’t be helped; the teacher was not hard on the eyes.

Hashirama beamed whenever he saw her, and even Tobirama couldn't help how on earth she was doing it all. The lonely girl felt success and a began to build a place in this strange city.

And, she beginning to enjoy this new life.

 

But-

 

She had her eyes closed as Tsunada performed her ministrations, enjoying it. Even if she was attempting to imagine it was someone else running their fingers through her long hair. Despite the increase in good things, she still felt awful over Madara.

The girls were sitting in a newer part of the Senju compound Hashirama had just finished. It included a garden and pool, for Sayuriama, that he created so she would be more inclined to stay home to when searching for privacy.

It had worked. “Hayo called again.” Tsunada implied and she pulled the comb through the copious locks. “But I told him that you were planning the wedding with Mito today.”

Sayuriama bit her lip at Hayo Uchiha. While it was all in good fun (and mild backlash- damest, she _was_ worthy)  to accept his cheek at the competition, but this was getting a little ridiculous.

At the somewhat hypocritical thought she grimaced. She maybe deserved this.

She had done the EXACT same thing to Madara. But only now, looking back, could she see how pointless it had been. All she had done had only made her look like a fool, like she felt like Hayo Uchiha was doing.

You couldn’t force someone to fall in love with you.

Mito was correct. She was far too inexperienced, and with that conclusion, how could she ever expect Madara Uchiha, one of the greatest Shinobi to ever live; handsome, and incredible- fall in love with a girl who only showed her pretty face? Relationships had to have something more substantial to keep them going.

She had been annoying to Madara, childish, naive.

 _Weak_.

She hated how deep his words still cut her.

She moved her hand, to put it over her face. Tsunada sighed, with the familiar motion and put her hand on Sayuriama’s head. Tears spilled over the girl’s fingers, sliding down their hands, to drop to Tsunada’s lap, staining her kimono.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

“So, _my lord_ , Are you really gonna go back? Or have you decided to live the good life?” The woman pulled down her kimono  lower to reveal her large breasts. She was not terrible looking, not old nor deformed.

She was obnoxious as hell.

She put her hands on her generous hips grinning at the shirtless figure in the window seal, ignoring her.

The lights were dim in the room, but the stars and moon were bright. His battle-scarred chest rippled, and his muscles bulged under his taut skin. His face remained expressionless, as it had the last month.  Black, untamable masked this eyes. He had occasionally come to this woman before, but had never felt so disgusted at her well trained body.  

She picked up a tube of red lipstick and put more on her smirking lips. It made her look coarse, and garish, in the thin light.

A rough smell permeated the air.

“Get out.”

He stayed emotionless as she stood up, once again adjusting herself, and sauntered over to him. She put a hand on his muscled shoulder and trailed it down, familiarly. He shoved her back, but not enough to send her to the floor.

His dark eyes were fixated away from the room, into the dark forest, not even bothering with her. She had left him even more empty than when he came.

It didn’t deter the foolish women who had carelessly thought Madara held some sentiment to return to her.

“Don’t play that game with me _Madara_ . I know what you’re thinking. I know what all of you men think. You’ve come here with your _I could care less_ attitude, but deep inside you hurt.” She pushed his long hair aside and kissed his neck with her red lipstick lips.

He didn’t push away, but she didn’t realize it was not because he wanted her. He was so far away that he didn’t seem to feel her cold claw attempting to capture him. She smiled and took the cue, putting her hands near some of his more tender part. Madara finally turned, slowly, looking at the darkish hair the woman had, the garish face of the whore.

It was hardly a comparison.

 

 _Shi_ t

 

Damn it. He lost it. Again.

He had been doing well tonight, not thinking of her. The woman was unaware of how disgusting Madara  had become of her easy ways. But she had been his last measure, before going back to Konoha. He had to know if even this shit could fix the gaping hole in his heart, which was humorous, because it seemed to fit what most people already thought of him, being heartless.

So once again he took what she had professed mastery in.

 

But her irritating voice wasn’t letting him think. Every grating move he compared that the _damn girl._

“I suppose you’re not going to tell me? Oh well. It is you, Maddy.” He closed his eyes and turned to her. The woman smiled.

“That’s more like it honey. You can’t erase those feelings, _but you can bury them._ ”

_Fuck_

He knew, at this point he couldn’t. He opened his eyes, now crimson red. He saw the familiar fear in her eyes that they all had. It made no difference.

The harlot, who dared talk down to him, was cleanly cut in half. Her dead body hit the floor of the elaborately covered shack she called her office.

“There is no place for _such a whore_ in the Land of Fire.” As he went through the things she had, he found what he was looking for. It was a message from the new tsuchikage. Nor a place for a women who traded the secrets of leaf ninja for gold.

No, there was no place for her anywhere.

He pulled his shirt back into place, tucking the folder in his belt pouch. He’d see about that treaty between _The Village hidden in the Leaves_ and _The Village hidden in the Rocks_.  

 _Bastards_.

Within a few minutes, he was gone. He didn’t over think if he may have spared her if she hadn’t disappointed him so poorly.

But he wasn’t as confused as when he left.

Besides, if he couldn’t _erase_ his useless feelings, he would _destroy_ them.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

The Leaf Village messenger ran through the forest tree tops, sweating in terror, but the poor old man just kept going. Faster, he told his exhausted body.

He only had to get to someone. Tell someone else.

Someone else had to hear the message, and take it. He only had to get the message to someone else.

The village was depending on him. The Konoha nin’s shoe, in his rush, accidently caught on the tree branch, causing the terrified man to crash into the ground below. He bit his tongue to suppress the scream as he hit the ground, and slid. If that thing had heard him, he was dead.

The crash was enough without the scream to inform his pursuer.

 

The man’s eyes widened as cords of what seemed like thread shot through the air, out from the trees. They twisted around his neck and crushing the trachea and clavicle in one swift move. The man made a wet gurgling sound, then went limp.

The man had made no last sound, and the forest was quiet as if complying to his wishes.

The threads unwound and flew back to their owner, reattaching themselves the tall powerful body in the trees. The man’s green eyes searched the area for others. The white sclera looked more on the pinkish side as the moonlight hit his eyes. On his forehead, he wore the sign of his ninja village, different from the one on the Konoha’s ninja’s had chosen.

Takigakure, the village hidden in the Waterfall.

The man clearing the area, jumped down to the body. He was his village’s top Shinobi, and had been given this chance. There could be no clues left. He, in a disturbing manner, unattached his arm and the threads once again circled the body he had ruthlessly killed. The dark strands thickened as they wove, and in another moment they tightened, completely crushing the body out of recognition.

No clues.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Hashirama stood at the gates, a stern look on his face. He was in his casual wear, but his stance was if he meant to rush out. In a moment, Tobirama appeared behind him, and walked the dirt trail to stand to his side. The large wood gates seemed to loom menacingly in the twilight.

“So Yasaiki Masosuki hasn’t returned from sentry duty yet?”

“No. I wouldn’t be worried, but Yasaiki is always the first one back, ready for his wife’s food. It wasn’t supposed to be nearly this long.”

“Yes, we may need to send out a search party. After all, I can understand that sentiment. Mrs. Masosuki is a very talented cook. It’s, I believe, who Mito has asked for wedding?”

“Yes, the refreshments for the reception.” Hashirama grinned, the first time since the sentries had come back with their report. Mito had been very insistent on taking care of every detail. Mito even managed to make Sayuriama participate in something. Besides the occasional, watched, outing with Hayo Uchiha, his sister had barely gone out of the compound.

He could still see his future wife’s gorgeous red hair, the smile that made every day better. For a moment Hashirama forgot his worries and gave into his pleasant thoughts. Tobirama smirked at his brothers obvious infatuation.

Well, one of them had to get married, and neither he nor Sayuriama seemed likely too. Tobirama thought of his own long dead fiancée, and how he felt when they were together. He couldn’t be jealous of Hashirama, but only happy. But thought of losing her, recent turmoil he was feeling seemed to bring him back to think of his sister. Sayuriama hardly knew how dear she was to him. She was his reason for building the village- so young women like her could live and marry the men they loved.

He stopped.

Unless they were Madara Uchiha.

“Lord Madara returns this week.” Tobirama said flatly, getting to the point of why he came. Hashirama knew that this talk had been coming and laughed awkwardly.

“What are your suggestions?”’ Hashirama turned to his white haired younger brother. Tobirama touched a red mark on his face, already three steps in every situation.

“I’ll be honest, Hashirama. I have no idea what to expect from her. That girl is truly the definition of unpredictable. Far too complex to be understood by us simple men.” Hashirama gave a laugh.

“I can’t fight with that. Us, called the great Senju Brothers, have _no idea_ when it comes to dealing with our overly romantic younger sister. How history will laugh at us.” Tobirama put two fingers to his forehead. Hashirama had quite the sense of humor concerning them, and their reputation. He couldn’t care less, but Tobirama did.

“What will we do? The Senju clan will cringe in shame and horror for centuries to come!” For once, Tobirama smiled, playing along.

“We had better get the search party ready for tomorrow.” Nodding, Tobirama turned, waiting for Hashirama to fall in step with him. Realizing that it was going to be a long night, Hashirama yawned, then instructed the night guards to let Yasaiki Masosuki in, and inform him the minute he did get in.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

In her room Sayuriama had pulled back the curtains and opened the screen to let the wind blow in.  Her hair floating in the breeze, relishing in the air that was tinted with the smell of the city just beyond the Senju compound walls . At her fingers was a scroll loaned by the highly intelligent Nara clan. They had been a bright, if not rather lazy, recent addition to her class.

She had been engrossed by the culture that had developed the deer loving nature when she heard distant thunder. Now she was staring at a distant storm that threatened the fringes of the village’s territory. Not enough to break the oppressive heat quite yet.

She was alone, but that had been less intolerable lately. Tsunada was no longer sleeping in her room at nights. which  left the girl plenty of space to spread out, instead of scrunched up on a shared bed. It was a pleasant night, but something was bothering her. She didn’t feel like sleeping, despite the fact she had several classes filled with some of the more obnoxious teens in the village.  

But, what should have been a very enjoyable night was making her uneasy.

 

Why did it feel like death was in the air?

  


Though Sayuriama didn’t really sleep well, tonight she felt especially restless. The air was thick with anticipation, and shrouded by the calm.

Sayuriama breathed in, the too warm air filling her lungs. She exhaled, and still felt no relief, no breeze in the hot night. As the air got cooler, and the storm closer, she slid shut the windows, checking Tsunada’s seals. Sayuriama narrowed her eyes and tightened her kimono as a sudden cold breeze hit her. Her hands, already on the folds of the night kimono moved slightly, both hands over her stomach.

  



	11. Scroll 11

**Scroll 11**

 

Madara Uchiha looked at the dirt road before him, before raising his eyes to the distance wood  forests of Konoha. 

He could race directly to village’s gate, but he felt like he needed more time to think, to plan. If he transported, he would get there in the middle of the night, and may make a scene. 

The personal trip had been one of the more brutal personal ones he had done in a long time. He had rushed quickly, village to village, giving him weeks to do as he pleased. And he had. He had fought those who would betray the leaf.

The voice inside of him as well. Not only over the Senju sister, but over the slow dissolution of his clan’s trust.

Hashirama had once talked to him above the village, on the cliff that guarded over the area that was to be Konoha. Hashirama had told him to wanted him to become the head of the village; the Hokage. 

_ And put his ‘scary’ face on the mountain.  _ He thought that part was rather stupid. 

But it was the reason that made him stop.

_ “You don’t have brothers anymore... but I want you to think of all the shinobi in the village as your brothers.” Madara’s sharp eyes gazed at him as Hashirama had one of his few serious moments outside of battle. “I want you to watch over them.” _

_ The reckless man who had almost killed himself to prove a point. Madara didn’t bother turning. _

_ “I wasn’t able to even protect my Uchiha brethren.” Hashirama raised his arms, as if it didn’t matter. _

_ “There’s no time to complain!”  _

_ They had talked more, even created the same of the village, which Hashirama thought was so simple. _

_ Hashirama was so quick to call him brother. _

 

The proposition had come to him, almost too much. Him, become the Hokage? Tobirama would be pissed that Hashirama dared suggest it. He had heard how his own clan were hesitant to support him, despite wanting no other leader.  

He had to know if there was even a chance Hashirama was right. Could he lead still? And what’s more, would the presence of the enigmatic Senju sister still cause the dark feelings of betrayal to dissipate? 

He knew that he liked the girl, though she was young still. He was confident he could love her, despite all his other misgivings. A breeze passed him, unusually cold in this warm night. There was nothing on the road, and he rejoiced that he would finally be home.

_ Would Hashirama be so eager to call him his brother when his young sister was on the line? _

The wind slowly blew his dark hair, cleaning him with its soft whispers. There was a slight musical sound in the air. He would test them all, see if the Uchiha could survive in such a place.

And maybe, if he could, he could love a Senju. 

Little Sayuriama,  _ how you will sing _ .

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

  
  


Sayuriama’s dark hair swirled around her figure, and the thread-like cords hesitated over her sad face. Even he, Kakuzu of Takigakure, had to admit that the Senju sister was unnatural in her beauty, but her expression seemed to indicate less than pleasant dreams. Still, her visage was heavenly, her bow lips parted and then pressed into a frown. For a moment she smiled.

What sort of dream would cause an angel to smile?

 

Kakuzu didn’t really give a damn.

 

His mission was clear. He slowly twisted the thread around the girl and picked her up, with her blanket, which she had been gripping.

Without warning the door slammed open.

Tsunada entered the room, a little frantically, carrying a lantern, causing the girl to sit up, startled. The older woman observed the perimeter with sharp eyes, then went over to the window, slamming it open and shut again. Sayuriama, blinked in surprise.

For a moment she wondered if she was still dreaming as she watched Tsunada perform handsigns and place a seal. But watching Tsunada was much different than the dream she had been having and both combined were strange. As the thoughts sorted out her face went red.

If the Senju mother was alive, she would have been blushing at the girls midnight wishing. Or encouraged it.

Tsunada looked over, completing the seal, and moved considerable less frantic than how she had entered. She picked up the lantern which she had set down and put it down on the dresser, next to a glass vase. Sayuriama’s eyes widened as the older woman’s hand fumbled.

“Tsunada?”

“A guard was found dead and your brothers asked me to check you.” Sayuriama moved over under the soft covers and Tsunada sat on the edge. She looked tired and worn, and Sayuriama frowned at the dark circles under Tsunada’s eyes. Like a small child, she raised her hand and placed it on the older womans face.

It was wearing on Tsunada to protect her, just like when she was living with an Uzumaki clan.

“Which guard?”

“Yasaiki Masosuki.”

“The one who is doing Mito’s wedding?”

“Yes, her husband.”

“….” Sayuriama didn’t say anything, but she raised her right hand, the pearly skin gleaming. She clenched it, and Tsunada gasped as dark drops of blood appeared. They rolled down, red against white, and Tsunada jumped up. Sayuriama didn’t blink, but just stared. Tsunada, in her terror, grabbed for a piece of rag. She grabbed Sayuriama’s hand and wrapped it in the dark cloth.

“Please be careful.” Tsunada looked at the hand, tying it off, and then raised her own hand to the face. She lifted it, tilting it up to the slight red light. Her red eyes narrowed in some sort of strong emotion and a sudden glimpse of agony broke through the depressed face.

Agony.

Masses of withering aching letting Tsunada know that the girl she had become like a mother too was not doing well tonight.

“Should I stay?”

“No. Go rest.” Disappointed, the women nodded as Sayuriama turned away, and rolled herself into the thin blankets. Tsunada sighed, and pushed herself off the bed. She collected the lantern and walked out, only turning slightly at the door. She walked down the hall and exited the small set of rooms.

After a few minutes, the figure on the bed slipped out a hand.

She moved to the dresser and picked up the vase which she had been afraid Tsunada would take a closer look at. A little drawer, which her own mother had shown her, was under the vase.

She pressed the thin edge. One would only thing that someone had carved a square into the top of the table, but after a few taps of her finger, it popped open. She reached inside, and pulled out a small glass jar filled with a brown liquid.

Valerian Root, an oil emulsifier which let one sleep. It was the only way Sayuriama had been sleeping since the whole debacle. Sayuriama opened the jar top with a little pop, and stuck her slim pinky in. She touched the top of the slimy cream and then shut the jar quickly. She replaced it and set the porcelain jar back on hide away in the wood. With her finger covered in the goop she brought it to her mouth and licked it off.

She grimaced at the taste, but almost immediately she fell into the accustomed lethargy. She managed to slip back on the bed, than her eyes closed.

There would be no more dreams, at least for tonight.

  
  


Kakuzu, who had slipped out of the closet, could hardly believe his luck. He had become nervous when he felt the women’s ­chakra, which was surprisingly powerful. But he almost had to laugh at the older woman’s overly tired state. Her age had brought a once legendary ninja down. 

The long strings of coarse hair twisted out of the coat Kakuzu wore, and once again went around the figure, perhaps a bit less gentle than before. He had no worry to wake her, as she was already in her drug induced stupor.

Foolish girl.

The tentacles encircled the girl, and the blanket, and picked her up.  He went towards the window, the girl following in her strange bondage.In a single moment he performed the handsigns and the seal broke. He smirked behind his mask, his young face turning older, and twisting gruesomely.

He waited until his Jutsu brought the beautiful girl close and he grabbed her, putting her over his shoulder. Her soft cheek pressed against his neck, through his rough mask. The tendrils of hair wrapped her slender form closely to his rough one and he took off into the black night, green eyes gleaming. Her soft breath tickled his ear as she slowly breathed in her torpor.

The soft moonlight filtered through the village of Konohagakure, and only the normal music of the night echoed.

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Mito was sitting with Hashirama, both laughing at some incident with the treaty. She leaned forward slightly, her brilliant orange hair gleamed in the morning light, and Hashirama raised a rough hand to brush it back. He gently touched it and they both leaned forward, almost subconsciously. For a moment, time disappeared, and their lips gently touched.

Mito’s tea cup, which she had set down, suddenly cracked. They both pulled back, looking at the cup in surprise. Hashirama leaned forward, making sure she was okay, and Mito turned to the cup to him, picking it up.

To their surprise, a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.” Tobirama stepped in, without his silver guard, for once.

“Ah. I thought I’d find you two in here. Up all night in the conference room?”

“Yes. We were discussing the plans of ninja ranks.” Hashirama smiled at the excuse. 

Tobirama rolled his eyes. Mito and Hashirama should just elope. He would have made some sort of sarcastic joke pertaining to the situation, but he was distracted.

“The Uchiha is almost back. He’s approaching the gates.”

Hashirama and Mito looked at each other and both stood up with near synchronization.

“ _ Madara _ , Tobirama.” Hashirama said softly, wishing his brother was not so stubborn. “Sayuriama or Madara?” Hashirama asked, giving his brother the choice.

“I’ll take Sayuriama. I suppose we’re still telling her of his return?” Mito and Hashirama raised their eyebrow at Tobirama’s choice. Madara seemed like the safer choice between the two, Hashirama mused. Tobirama really couldn’t stand Madara.

“Playing with fire?” Mito lightly asked Tobirama lightly.

“We are in Fire Country.” He turned his white hair fluffing. Mito and Hashirama nodded, and both walked to the entrance, not ready to meet Madara, hand in hand.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

“Lord Madara!” The said man pulled a hand through his dark hair, looking at the all-too-familiar Hayo Uchiha. He sighed, at the enthusiastic attitude. The boy stood at the gates, along with Hikaku Uchiha. Hikaku stood much more soberly, waiting for him in a more typical Uchiha manner, cool as ice.

He also saw Hashirama, who raised a friendly hand, along with the Uzumaki women that he was going to  _ marry _ . He had sent several messages via falcon, which had been answered by Hashirama. Thought the brother dan’t mentioned it, Madara could tell when Hashirama was irritated with him. He thought Hashirama might bring  _ her _ , to apologize or mediate. 

Ah, maybe later then.

He knew he had said some  _ rash _ things, but the Senju clan was stubborn, and Hashirama hated having contention within. 

But, The dark haired beauty was nowhere to be found, and he frowned in disappointment.

Instead of a beauty he was greeted by a bevy of fools. As he reached the gates he nodded to his clan’s men, who returned the gesture. After a few moment, Hikaku left, excusing himself, dragging Hayo along.

“Madara,” The Senju grinned, “How are our borders?”

“Hashirama… They fare well enough. Did the Daimyo respond to the latest advances?” Madara said curtly. He had little desire to stay and prattle when there was no real pressing news.

“He has decided to come here for sure, to attend our wedding. How about you Lord Madara? You always have a place of honor with the Senju Clan.”

Madara raised a brow, noting Mito’s cool face.

“I’m flattered that you met me all the way out here, Hashirama, just to invite me.” Hashirama’s laughed, raising his hands. He was about to make some sort of change, but Madara raised a hand. “OF course, the Uchiha would be honored.”

Hashirama stopped, mouth a bit open. Mito’s eyes widened, but quickly her shrew look returned. Hashirama had expected the tired Madara to put up more resistance.

Madara walked past the couple.

“After all, aren’t we all family here?” They turned, perturbed, but Hashirama went in step with him, almost feeling that Madara seemed... Younger. 

Mito stepped in.

“We’re very pleased with returning, Lord Uchiha. You must be tired.” She smiled up, and Madara nodded politely. It was a little awkward for a moment, but the worries were soon broken when a flash of white hair appeared.

Tobirama, in full battle regalia came to a stop, frantic and worried, not even bothering to acknowledge the Uchiha. Hashirama instantly braced himself, and Mito eyes widened in horror. Madara took a step back and his hand automatically went to the battle fan strapped to his back.

“Sayuri…. Sayuri…” Tobirama looked almost frantic. Hashirama’s eyes narrowed and Madara felt his lungs stop at the name, and though more than ready to fall asleep, braced himself. Hashirama rushed forward, grabbing Tobirama’s arm guard.

“Tobirama? Sayuri what?”

“She’s missing. It had to be a foreign kidnapper. Tsunada put a seal to ensure her safety, and it’s been broken.” Hashirama’s face went through a myriad of expressions, before settling one Madara had only seen him use in battle, chakra flaring.

Madara looked in contempt and anger, an arrogant brow raised. How could they not take care to  _ watch _ her?

“A powerful ninja then. Assemble the clan. I’m afraid, Lord Madara, that we caught you at a bad time. I guess I’ll be leaving the village for a time.” Madara was surprised at Hashirama’s level attitude, the way he leaned down to give a worried Mito a kiss. But Madara stepped up.

“No, Lord Hashirama.”

“Wha-? “ It caught the three off guard.

“The Uchiha clan will assist searching for Lady Senju.” Tobirama looked in shock, more then a little annoyed. Mito looked, than gave a little nod, her face a mix of admiration and realization. “A guest is obliged to assist their host when necessary. Are we not a village of families?” Hashirama put his head down in surprise, but lifted it in a smile. 

Tobirama stood in shock- Had he been too quick judge Madara?

Mito, in the way only females understand, smiled, and answered, taking control of the situation.

“Indeed, Lord Madara.” This was enough to spur Hashirama into action.

“We won’t refuse you. We will all gather those willing and set out immediately. Take the falcon carriers for speed. Tobirama, since you’re ready, leave immediately. Once Madara and I set up proxies for the situation, we’ll find you.” Madara cut in.

“If we are unable to find her, meet back in Konoha in three days.” Madara added, teeth grinding. In a moment they all took off in opposite directions. Tobirama to the forest, Hashirama and Mito to the Senju compound, and Madara Uchiha, to the Uchiha compound.

Madara  _ would _ brutally murder whatever bastard dared to interfere in his plans. This girl was  _ his,  _ he decided _. _ His hands grabbed the battle fan even tighter, causing the handle to break. He dropped the useless weapon, flinging it a good half a mile in the air. He propelled himself over the fence, and found a good number of people, surprised at his sudden entrance.

“Lord Madara-“ Asmo, a shinobi began to say, “We are glad-”

He cut in, Madara style, taking control of the situation.

“Sayuriama Senju has been kidnapped. We are going to assist the Senju clan in retrieving her.”

  
  


The Uchiha clan could hardly believe it.

 


	12. Scroll 12

 

**Scroll 12**

 

“Update from Setsuna, Lord Madara. No sign in the south quadrant, and no leads.” Hikaku Uchiha raised an eyebrow at the Uchiha clan leader, the dark creases under his eyes looking painful.

 

“Heh.”

 

“Lord Madara?” Hikaku Uchiha said again, waiting for order. Madara grit his teeth.

“Does it look as if I have the girl? Keep searching.” 

“Of course, my apologies, my lord.” Hikaku, much more mature than Hayo, could better placate the overtired clan leader. He was surprised at the sheer effort Madara was putting forth for the Senju Clan, this man who constantly said the Uchiha and Senju clans were like water and oil. 

Especially _post battle_ _Madara_. Oh, yes, the terror of the post-mission Madara. Hikaku forced the anxiety of the imminent explosion down- Madara, tired, could drop dead tired Madara, would still destroy most opponents with little effort.

Even now, taking a break, he was menecing. It surprised the experienced Hikaku, a man older than his own clan leader, to see the man act like  _ the younger Madara _ . Back when Madara  _ was  _ the world. When his charisma and power took a dying clan back into a contender of the highest caliber, the Madara that was opposed by none.

The Madara backed by the sly and intelligent Izuna.

The two brothers had taken over when they were barely men, and had rocked the ninja world, terrifying the Feudal Lords who paid them. None could face the fury of Madara, or beat the sheer speed of Izuna. 

With Madara as head, and Izuna keeping the dissenters in order, it was not hard to rise. They had even brought back several of the valuable men that had left the clan, the young leader inspiring them that there was hope.

Before Izuna died, and Madara turned into a man that couldn’t be handled or predicted. The one that many in the clan were fearful of disobeying, but had trouble trusting with their entire hearts.

The one that for some unknown reason, was willing to search for a women and not spare an ounce of strength.

Hikaku knew that his leader  _ still _ had the potential to lead fearlessly. One where he was able to serve without the fear of looking over his back and once again trusting.

One that might be found in Hashirama Senju’s younger sister. This was Madara’s third day out, looking, after he had already been weeks traveling tirelessly. But he remained patient, in control, and his tactics were still on par with the Senju brothers. 

Hikaku put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

It was daring move, one he wouldn’t have dared a day ago. The Uchiha were very formal about affection, and never touched without reason. No one  _ especially _ touched Madara Uchiha, ever. 

 

“My Lord…”

 

Madara stiffened at the hand, but brushed it off, not bothering to even raise a brow at the man. Just a cool look, one that seemed a little more understanding that Hikaku was worried about him.

“...” He inferred sharply, black eyes narrowing.  _ Hurry,  _ they said. Hikaku stepped back at the look those usually obsidian diamond had. It had been a long time since Hikaku had seen Madara with that bothered a look.

Since Izuna.

_ A distant memory of an angry man screaming for the healers. _

Hikaku was now worried, and a bit intrigued, but one thing was transparently clear. 

They had to save the Senju girl.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

“If I calculate the probability that your family found out that you were missing by that morning, then it’s likely that they have already sent out a fore runner….” A pause and an exasperated growl. “ _ Woman _ did you WANT me to kill you?” Kakuzu didn’t bother to turn, but clicked the briefcase he seemed to adore open.

Or more precisely, the money inside the case.

Sayuriama smiled disparagingly, one leg already over the entrance of the jagged edge of the cave, trying to sneak out. Knowing what was coming, she still attempted to run.

Again. 

Long tentacles once again flew from the tall figure, immobilizing the girl in seconds. Sayuriama gave a squawk of disgust, which was cut off as one of the strands was stuffed in her mouth-  _ his twisted  _ form of punishment as he didn’t want to batter her up  _ too _ much.

Kakuzu gave a growl, biting down on his lip.

“You’re a terribly annoying for a common girl. But getting you was far easier than catching your actual brothers.” The girl narrowed her eyes, glaring with full force. Kakuzu hadn’t actually discussed his plan to her, but his obvious hints were enough.

When Sayuriama had finally woken up from her stupor, she hadn’t really known what to think. She had been having a less than platonic dream, and for a moment she imagined that fantasy had crossed over to reality. The Valerian Root didn’t often have side effects, and she soon realized that the unthinkable had happened. She, the younger Sister of the Great Senju Brothers, had actually been kidnapped, taken  _ without _ a trace.

 

From her brothers house.

She didn’t waste time; who knew where she even was? The man who was carrying her didn’t realize that she was awake. His grimy person made her want to throw up, and she forced herself to breath normally.

She kicked the bastard as hard as she could in where she estimated his tender parts were. The man, shocked, accidentally dropped her as like any man, he went to clutch the said area.

Which left her midair.

Much to her embarrassment  she let out a piercing scream, then hit the tree branch underneath. The breath left her chest of the wood hit into her, but she managed to  _ almost  _ grab ahold,  _ almost  _ stopping the fall that was at least thirty feet down.

She actually thought the oncoming ground might be her end, except for a sudden force grabbing her ankle, spraining it, and saving her.

So, unfortunately, and fortunately, her imminent escape was cut off, rather brutally. 

_ “You bitch.” The ninja sneered, holding her upside down. _

_ Even in her pain she managed to smirk. _

_ “No, I think  _ you  _ are the bitch now.” _

Her face bruised at a thick strand of Kami-knows-what slapped over her mouth, as her kidnapper had not been impressed with her smart mouth, and that was followed suit by what she could describe as a man sized spider who used hair instead of web to bind her. How fortunate, she thought with dark humor, that she had been wearing kimono pants under her robe, and had managed to stay modest during the abduction.

She had choked and gagged at the disgusting  _ thing _ in her face. Her entire body had been wrapped in the gross cords.

She found herself on the ground before him.

“Do you want me to kill you wench?” He had said, grabbing her, forcing her to look him straight in the face. She had looked in horror the first time he did it, not making a move.

That was two day ago and she wasn’t done.

She hidden his briefcase, screamed at every moment, and had even  _ almost  _ escaped but that stupid money dealer ratted her out, angry when he wasn’t able to buy her.

In momentarily defeat she sat down, causing the man to let most of her go, only binding her ankles. He was constantly referring to her as an  _ investment _ , and pretty much made everything seem like an oppportunity to make some change. He hardly fed her, they never slept in buildings, and was constantly moving.

She had to give it to hi, he was the smartest yet.

But, Hashirama liked his gambling, but this man was another thing entirely. Damn miser.

“If you weren’t the  _ only _ way I could capture Hashirama Senju, I would have killed you already.” Kakuzu said.

She was pretty she that was his name; He sure as hell didn’t  _ tell _ her but or unluckily  _ Kakuzu _ had run across a ‘bounty’. That had been the one moment that she had faltered. She had seen her fair share of brutal injuries and dead men.

She hadn’t ever seen one so savage. She had turned and threw up as he  _ twisted  _ the body of life. She was quieter, shaken, until they got to a collection office of sorts.

The man at the collection office had offered the pay 40 million Ryo for her. With the way the man talked about money, she was sure she was about to trade hands.The man at the office raised his eyebrows in shock. Kakuzu took the money the man had owed him for the other kill.

“For Takigakure.” Was all Kakuzu said.

It was a bit after she was foiled. 

Occasionally it even seemed like Kakuzu cared, the nasty tentacle gag disappearing into his cloak. Sayuriama would immediately move to fight, and the gag would be shoved back in.

Kakuzu only let her off his shoulder for two small breaks a day, as she had threatened to defecate on him. Sayuriama’s stomach  may have been permanently bruised at the jostling. Kakuzu was not a smooth runner, and jumped from tree to tree in a rough manner. A few times she tried to throw up, just to irritate him. That stopped after he threw her in a river, almost drowning her.

Kakuzu had practically tossed the drenched girl her to the ground when they had reached the small cave. 

For a while, she had been still, relishing in that fact she wasn’t slung over his arm like a ragdoll.

For all of her polite talk, he would get pissed, tell her he was going to kill her, but it was all empty words. From what Sayuriama had deduced, it was Kakuzu’s village that had sent him. Specifically, to kidnap her, and kill Hashirama.

Ha. Moron. What type of suicide mission  _ was  _ he on?

But she held her tongue, because he did manage to kidnap her, admitted begrudgingly, and she had been privy to some amazing experiences. Moving like lightening, the terror of a real battle.

The strangest part was that he wasn’t fazed by her beauty. Even though she didn’t look her best, the few people they had come across had stopped and tried to barter this known bounty hunter.

She shivered at a bounty that Kakuzu had captured. She had been  _ used _ as a distraction- She virtually had been pushed into the battle, and the man, in his misguided attempts to save her, had been slaughtered. 

Sayuriama emptied her stomach after that one. Something that had been soft inside hardened. She realized that money  _ was  _ enough to kill for. Silly since she was a Senju- she should have known, but her brothers always held her to higher ideals.

Finally Sayuriama, who had been like a ghost, had gotten her spunk back. As the tentacles occasionally dragged her back to the nin, she made a frustrated growl that sounded more like a mew. “Would you just kill me already. I’ll die of boredom anyway.”

Kakuzu stopped for a moment. He slowly raised an eyebrow, and then turned back to briefcase full of money he had counted four times. The tentacles returned to his sleeves, releasing her. She tightened her robe. 

How  _ dare _ he not even humor her weak threat. Kakuzu even turned, as to physically block her out. He was obvious so sure of his own abilities to not even pay attention.

“DON’T IGNORE ME!” Using all her paltry speed she jumped  _ at him _ . It was much to Kakuzu’s surprise that as he turned to apprehend her from escaping, that she crashed into him. Kakuzu was tall, and Sayuriama didn’t really make him budge, but by an unlucky hit of her foot, the briefcase and all the money contained went flying. Money scattered through the cave, covering the surface, and Sayuriama hit the man as hard as she could.

“Fuck you.”

For a moment Kakuzu sat there, his precious money strewn in the area, dirty. His hands twitched.

Sayuriama’s collar twitched, and it was too her horror that a tentacle slid around her slim neck. Her face paled as she realized she may have gone too far.

“Well then.” 

She stepped back as the  _ thing  _ rose, beginning to choke her.

“I...will... KILL YOU!” 

XXXXXXXXXXX

“Lord Madara!” 

The said man’s eyes snapped open, recognizing the voice.

He gave a sneer at his nap being wakened, in a moment had the reckless man held up by the throat. He pulled a hand through his wild hair as the young Uchiha struggled for air.

Hikaku had managed to convince Madara that the Leader needed some sleep. It had only been under the condition that at the first sign of a clue of Sayuriama that he be awoken. Hikaku, less than pleased at the thought of being strangled, was a little hesitant, but finally it was agreed upon.

“ _ What _ .” To Madara’s distaste it was Hayo who had come. Instead of charging him, he instead controlled himself, letting the boy to the ground, and a grateful Hayo took a nervous breath of air for living another day.

Yes, Hikaku had set Hayo up, thinking the man may go easier on a younger man, or maybe, as a punishment. The few other Uchiha looked coolly on, wondering why Hayo had approached so recklessly. They saw how furious Madara had been when learned that Hayo been accepted with the Senju Clan over the last few days, and had been invited off with them searching.

Madara clearly felt like Hayo was overstepping his bounds, having confidence in the Senju trust he had been granted.

Suddenly, Setsuna appeared, and this time, Madara turned, giving him permission to speak, without a word. 

“Lord Hashirama requests your back up immediately!”

  
  
  



	13. Scroll 13

**Scroll 13**

 

Sayuriama was still.

Eyes closed, she bit her bottom lip, just as a reminder she could still move something, to remind her that the pain of meant _ she was still alive _ . She didn’t know if that was a fluke or not.

From her slump she could not longer recognize shapes, but saw shadows, felt the felt more then saw it. And she was burning.

She heard the rain, felt its coolness, but there was little relief. 

Powerful jolts shot through her limbs every now and then, reminding her that there was something there. It covered her in a sticky syrup, coating and clotting. 

Yes, she was alive, but just barely. She had only tasted her powerlessness with Madara, but now, now she was broken. Yes, she know considered him kind to only destroy her with his words.

This man had destroyed her soul.

In her skull, she felt the throb of chakra. Biting her tongue she pushed it back.

_ No _

She clenched her arms over her stomach,  _ begging _ him to stay in.

_ Anything, she’d endure anything, but never that. _

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara had charged to Hashirama, finding him in minutes in the tops of the trees, his red armor peeking through the branches. The valley ahead was deep and forested, but Hashirama didn’t need to point out where the perpetrator was. One second and Madara could see the bastard. The other men, on command to stay back, had given the Elder Senju miles to fight this battle. Only Madara dared be there at his side.

“Can you see her?” Hashirama turned to him, aware of Madara’s superior sight. 

“Yes.” Hashirama knew that frown was not promising.

Madara turned, and was surprised at Hashirama’s face.  _ This _ would be answered with fury. 

Madara put a hand on Hashirama’s shoulder.

“She’ll be fine.” The Senju’s face softened, but the stern look was still there. 

“Of course. She is a Senju.” Hashirama said, winking. 

“Stupid as ever, Hashirama.”

Madara gave an arrogant smirk that Hashirama laughed at. He was always so inappropriate, this man.

“I’ll take the hard part,” Hashirama raised his hands, “I was always better at tossing stones anyway.”

Madara turned his hand, his scythe  _ almost  _ hitting Hashirama, who had stepped out of range. 

“Hmph. Normally I would enjoy stealing the battle from you, but I’m feeling generous rahter generous today. Heh, the white knight then.” Madara turned.

Hashirama raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. Madara felt like he suited the part of the black one better, but who was he to argue?

“I hoped you would be so obliging.”

“Just promise me one thing, Hashirama.”

“Oh?” Surprise. Madara turned, absolute fire in his red eyes, a fire that Hashirama hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“ _ Don’t let him off easy _ .” 

In a flash was Madara gone.

Hashirama couldn't help feeling that Madara may have been a bit too, for once, to be the Savior, rather than a force of destruction.

“Whoops. Maybe I shouldn’t have had him come...” Shrugging, he rushed off, face turning from casual humor to dark fury.

However....

Anyone who dared jeopardize Sayuriama Senju _would not_ be forgiven- No, there were few things Hashirama could not forgive. 

But this was one.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

She did respond when she heard the first metal against metal. She must have been somewhere between deep unconscious and utter awareness to notice the sound. It did rouse her though.

She heard Hashirama yell her name.

Her head moved, but her thick tresses making it hard to lift. Fingers flexed gently, touching the rough ground of the cave. The rain had created puddles, some finally pooling around her, soothing her.

“Hashirama....” She muttered. “....” 

Finally, she got out the only loud sound she could muster; a sob. Tears rolled down her face, and she continued with her panting and sobbing. She had to get to Hashirama.

She could escape if her  _ body _ would just let her. The thought of something flashed by, but she couldn’t think straight, just a large image filling her image. She seemed to reach out, but suddenly it stopped. She heard footsteps in the cave. Her mind suddenly went on overdrive, her heart beating quicker. She tried to roll in a ball, determined. Her breathy crying still gave her away. 

She could hear the fighting- who was this?

And then, warm arms picked her up, so much more softly then she imagined. Caring arms. Turning caused more pain, and she whimpered, but it did not stop. These warm hands were not from her Kidnapper- Her crying slowed, and her head automatically rested against the fabric over his firm chest.

She fell unconscious, forgetting the large dark shape of him who she was pressed against. 

“Ah. Little bird- You seem to have broken more than a wing this time.” She was senseless as he gently walked to the cave opening.

“I shall need to teach you how to fly.”

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was warm.

Sayuriama’s eyes slowly opened to the little flower, set at the foot of a bed. 

Though she desired to close her eyes and sleep more, she had no memory of where she was... no inkling of where she could possibly be. She looked at the room and didn’t recognize anything. It was a beautiful white room, painted and pristine. There was only the slightest light coming through a large window.

Pounding in her head made her slow, but soon realized she was wearing an unfamiliar grey robe. 

Had she been taken to the Village Hidden by a Waterfall? She remembered firm arms, comforting and protecting...

But unfamiliarity and panic made her move her weak body, turning from side to side. She saw bandages covering her arms, unfamiliar symbols on top. Her breathing became rapid. She smoved to the edge of the bed, slipping off. 

She then realized that her legs also hurt. 

The overwhelming pain was unlike anything she had felt, every part of her hosting something unnaturally painful. Her bones seemed to resist stability, and her muscles spasmed. She tried not to whimper, but it couldn’t be helped. 

There was a throbbing pain at her stomach, and she feared she’d be sick.

Footsteps were heard down the hall and her adrenaline soared. On her knees she dragged herself to the window as rhe door behind her opened  promptly .

Suddenly she was back on the bed, struggling and screaming. A voice attempted to reason with her, but she was half mad, deaf. Finally, pinned to the bed, a warm hand touched her face and she opened her eyes to look up.

A crimson inferno.

She stopped moving, then slumped back in a faint.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara shook his head disbelieving. Behind him Sabuto Uchiha, a healer, and several women entered. He hadn’t realized that she would be so alarmed. The Uchiha were also quick to work, summoning the best doctors, and creating a space for her in the Uchiha compound- in his personal residence.

If he noticed the subtle stares of his clan members, he didn’t say.

He cursed his bad luck- Leave one minute to use the bathroom, and the dove finally awakes from the comma. He turned to talk to the medics who once again surrounded Sayuriama, ministering of the broken body long before dawn. 

Madara had not wasted any moments speeding to Kohona, and it was only when she was being helped by medics did he direct for falcons to inform the men the girl was home. It was only after she had been taking care of, more stable, that the Senju had been informed of just  _ where  _ she was.

Madara may not have differentiated this but he knew Tobirama Senju. It would be detrimental for the brother to come in like a hurricane and ruin any chance of recovery. Hashirama had been greatly tired from his battle, and was slow in returning, leading an even slower party. 

Madara had been correct.

Only Tobirama had the gusto to brashly enter the Uchiha compound, demanding that Sayuriama be taken the Senju compound immediately when he entered the village. He was nose to nose with Madara at one point, seconds for creating a disaster. Only a normally quiet female healer, who stomped out, demanding peace, stopped the white haired fury.

He was not happy, but the medics were a neutral party - all taking an oath to protect - and finally convinced him to sit stubbornly in the room the girl was sleeping. 

Madara’s return to the Uchiha compound may not have been rational, but he felt was justified. Sayuriama would not have lasted the night without his quick actions, his ability to direct the Uchiha.

Sitting across from a seething Tobirama, Madara let himself feel smug, a smirk on his handsome feature. He barely respected him, and he liked him even less. 

It was like a mild revenge Madara couldn’t help. He knew just who Tobirama was- someone who would destroy his clan if he could. This was a man of secrets.

The air remained icy for a long time, leaving generous time for Madara to think. 

 

It seemed as though the entire Senju clan had their share of secrets. 

Pretty Sayuriama... what was so well sealed inside her?

Oh yes, he wanted had know. He waited till Tobirama had to begrudgingly leave for a few minutes.

She had been in a more stable condition, when he used his Sharingan to find out. He located the seal, inside her. He reached forward, then with a push, he felt himself sucked into blackness.

At first, it was just dark hallways, tall, held by large pillars. Elegant, but lonely.

As he had walked a short ways, a light flicked. Madara didn’t think he had it in him to be surprised...

  
  


A great beast stood before him. Vibrant red fur, a huge mouth of sharp teeth, eyes denoting the essence of hate. Although he was familiar with the description from lore, he could hardly believe it. Before him, lounging in this great hall, was more than a mere secret. 

 

He smirked, amused.

It looked to him, then give a wide, terrible sneer. and Madara braced himself at the  _ power _ .

 

“N _ ine-tails.”  _

 

“ _ Madara Uchiha.  _ I wondered if I would eventually meet you here.” Madara looked thoughtfully on. As he looked closer, he noticed markings on the floor. Seals. The more he looked, the more he understood. “What disgusting chakra you have.”

“Heh. How fascinating. How long have you been locked away like a kit?”

The Nine-tails sneer deepened and it lunged forward. However, as it tried, electricity shot up in it’s path, and he was forced back. The large fox gave the barrier a rather condescending look, but sat back.

Madara, who had been ready for a battle, let his smirk grow.

Trapped.

“It’s none of your business,  _ is it _ shinobi.”

Madara laughed, causing the beast to growl.

“It isn’t extraordinary that I find one of the most powerful beings in this universe inside a  _ mere girl _ , incapable of even the most basic ninja task. Heh.” The fox narrow it’s eyes.

“As much as I find humans as you petty and weak, I wouldn’t underestimate a Senju.” 

“Have a soft spot for the girl?” Madara was elated. “Indeed, especially one capable of suppressing the chakra of a cub like you. I suppose the Uzumaki clan played a part? Poor little  _ kit _ .” 

The fox was visibly more angry, his chakra beginning to suffocate the place. He growled, a low dangerous sound.

“I can always see you,  _ Uchiha _ . You and feel your intentions.” 

“If you say so.” Madara’s Sharingan flashed. “Do you make a good pet?” The fox’s giant eye flashed, his face against the barrier. They were steps apart

“Watch your back. The minute it’s turned  _ I will find a way to destroy you. _ ” Madara gave a half smirk, his raised brow cheeky enough to warrant another growl. 

“If you can,  _ kit _ .” 

He heard the creature scream in anger as he left.

  
  



	14. Scroll 14

**Scroll 14**

  


“Sayrui- Sayuriama.” A calm voice called to her. She felt fingers on her face, and she turned the face, painfully moving her head so she could rest on those fingers.

Another voice entered. “She moved! Thank the gods! Sayuriama!”

“Careful Tsunada, she still is weak.” She felt the smile of Tobirama behind the words. She smiled herself, a small grin. “Well done Hashirama- She’ll be as foolish as ever in no time.”

She just had to see them. She forced her eyes open. At first it was just a blur, and she was alarmed. Then she felt Hashirama’s large hands on her forehead. Her vision returned slowly, black becoming blurs, which turned into colors, then faces. She looked in gratitude at them, her family who were all attentively at her own bed, in the Senju compound.

She looked to her body quickly, noting the bandages covering her body. Her face was uncovered, and a thick blanket was across her lower half, keeping her almost too warm.

She tried reaching towards Hashirama, his face the closest. He reached out, gently lowering her arm, a big goofy smile on his face. “Careful- It’s better to slowly recover.” She nodded, suddenly feeling like not moving an inch. As her eyes darted she noted she was in one of the rooms the Senju used for women giving birth, her bed moved there.

Private, clean, at the other end of the compound. She vaguely remembered waking up somewhere else, and other fuzzy memories.

“What happened?” The room turned a little cooler as faces turned hard, the killer ninjas inside peeking through. She felt a chill, finally more aware of just what her family excelled in.

They were killers. The thought made her sick.

 _No_.

No, they weren’t. Her kind brothers had founded this village so fighting would end.

“What do you remember?” Hashirama asked softly.

“I..”

She went pale. _Kidnapped._

“Did... _did_ _anything happen_?” She reached to her stomach, a hand going over it.

Mito cut in, eyes warm. “Don’t worry, there were no... accidents.”

Sayuriama visibly gained color, and looked as though a weight had been taken off her slim shoulders. She leaned back into the bed. Hashirama looked to Tobirama, worried. The white haired man shrugged, but changed the conversation.

“It was an agent from another village, though we can’t prove he was acting on the villages orders. In time we’ll prove and handle it. Hashirama found him, and obviously won-” Hashirama interjected.

“We were also helped helped by the Uchiha clan. At Madara’s insistence his clan graciously provided invaluable assistant.”

“Hm.” Tobriama was cut off as Hashirama continued.

“When we found you, Madara personally brought you back, and his clan helped put your health out of danger.” Tobirama looked angry now. She felt awkward, playing with her thumbs.

“That was kind.”

Even Mito and Tsunada looked uncomfortable at the praise Hashirama was giving to Madara.

Sayuriama flushed. Of all the people to find her..

“It would have been more appropriate if he had brought her to us, here.” Tobirama replied gruffly, and Hashirama shot him a look.

“We’ll discuss it later. What matters is Sayuriama is safe and on the mend.” He patted her head and got up. Sayuriama was glad the conversation was over, though she sort of did wish to know more of what consisted of the Uchiha’s help.

Madara, send out his clan and risk their safety to help her? He had personally (?) found her, brought her home, spending time and influence to get her the best care?

She had missed an entire drama unfold. It seemed like a lie, but it couldn’t be if Hashirama told her, and Tobirama was this upset. She felt a squeamish feeling inside her, then butterflies.

_Why?_

She stopped, mid thought.

No, she forced the sentiment down as it tried to rise.

She couldn’t let this happen again.

However, the euphoria filled her, and she felt more than light.

Tobirama seemed to have enough, and left. He seemed endless pressed with other task, now she was on the road to recovery. The later gave him a sort of tired look as he left, and Sayuriama missed the days when Tobirama was softer.

“Tobirama is always so diligent ey? Ha ha.” Mito gave a sort of smile at her husband, and Tsuanda just looked worried.

“And you have much to do also. Now off, and let us girls talk about the wedding.” Mito reminded Hashirama, and he fell into short depression. Somewhat begrudging the man got up and kissed Sayuriama’s head, and she smiled, warmth filling her. As Hashirama left, gave her a soft smile, kissing Mito’s forehead, finally calm.

He had been almost frantic when he saw her in such a state, and it had taken Mito several days to calm him down enough for him to settle down and focus on healing. As talented and powerful as he was, his emotions seemed to change dramatically on a dime.

As soon as he was gone, Mito turned to her.

“I’m glad you’re back, and doing well.” All Sayuriama could do was nod. Her throat was starting to hurt. As she looked to the drawer she saw a jug of water, and Tsunada quickly poured some.

“Thank you.” Was all she could manage to scratch out. Mito looked apprehensive, as did Tsunada as the girl took a sip.

“In all our years together,” Mito started,“have you known me to be anything but concerned share my love for you?” Sayuri was perturbed now. She shook her head, knowing there was not one occasion Mito had not acted in good will for her.

“Then please take what I say in that same manner.” Her heart sank, but he was at least forewarned. Mito turned to the door. “Hashirama has a large heart, and strives for this village with all his soul. However, he sometimes is blind when it comes to old desires and dreams.”

“Not often!” Tsunada piped in, her love for the brothers clear.

“Not often.” Mito cautioned, agreeing. “However, to put... too much praise on Lord Madara actions, to say they are always transparent, is to walk a dangerous road.” Sayuriama raised a brow, not sure where Mito was headed.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Madara is a Falcon with no desire to land. He would fly into sun if he could.” Mito walked forward, taking the seat Hashirama left. Sayuriama’s face must have betrayed something, though her mind trusted Mito.

“I can see it in your eyes, that you are thankful. I’m saying that you should be- without him we may have been too late. But know- he will do anything it takes to survive, to accomplish whatever his ends are. He is not a man that makes statements without meaning them.”

Sayuriama frowned. Statements?

Tsunada, her voice low, continued. “There are... rumours... About Izuna Uchiha.” Mito stared intently at her. She normally didn’t take much heed in gossip, but this seemed to have a seed of truth in it.

“I...Izuna?” Now she was lost.

“Hashirama once mentioned to me that Madara had gained an extraordinary power. But he said it came at the cost of Izuna Uchiha, Madara’s younger brother.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t even know that Madara had any siblings.” Mito bit her lip as Tsunada nodded.

“None alive. Izuna was wounded in one of the last wars, and soon after, died somewhat mysteriously. It’s said that Madara gained an unbelievable power at the terrible cost of the brother many had assumed were unbreakable.” Tsunada stopped, clearly upset by it, but Mito continued, cool and calm.

“They say Madara stole his younger brothers eyes, because he was losing his eyesight, due to overuse of the Sharingan. The Sharingan often awakes when an Uchiha goes through some soft of traumatic experience. One of the reason’s Madara gained so much power...”

Sayuriama did reply, taking in the information. There was so much about the Uchiha clan, and Madara, that she had no idea off. Madara hadn’t been kind to her... But was he the type of man to seize power at the cost a sibling?

She didn’t know. But she had a feeling at what Mito and Tsunada were trying to impress into her.

“I see.”

Tsunada took her bandaged hand, gazing sadly, no doubt feeling terrible guilt, that this was her fault. “Princess, we almost lost you to this rogue ninja. Forgive me, I just couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing.”

Sayuriama turned her head to the side, conflicted.

“Of course. And Tsunada, do not once even entertain that this was your fault.” Almost in shock, the older women started to let silent tears run down her face.

“You are too generous.” Mito smiled softly, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“You are blooming into a wonderful adult. I won’t try and play games with you, but please, take our counsel.”

“I understand your fears, but I promise you, Lord Madara has done his best to offend and embarrass me out of ever wanting to see him again. I am grateful, and will express that when the time is right. But I don’t think you need to worry about an illicit romance that no one by I dared even entertain.”

Mito frowned, looking like she was choosing her words with the utmost care.

“Sayuriama. The Uchiha, and especially Madara Uchiha, are not men that make declarations with little thought.”

“He _did_ make his distaste rather clear.” Mito put a hand to her head, and Tsunada sniffled a bit.

“ _Listen_ , Madara Uchiha didn’t just bring you home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Madara took you to the Uchiha compound- which is _no closer-_ ” Mito put her hands on Sayuriama’s shoulders. “Then the Senju compound. He took you to his private residence, where even many Uchiha wouldn’t dare go. He treated you with the best doctors in the village, had Uchiha women look after you, and stayed by your side until Tobirama was able to convince Hashirama to _force_ you home.”

A feeling started in Sayuriama as Mito’s feelings seemed to finally pour out. Confusion, mortification, discomfort. Flattered, honored... _delighted._

An intense red that covered her face as she processed just why Mito had been so perturbed by Madara Uchiha’s action. Her voice was still weak, but fervent. “Mito, I do not even remember being there, nor asked! I cou-”

Mito cut her off.

“No one is saying anything about you, or your honor. Just... you need to know. I wouldn’t even bother you but I worry. Madara Uchiha is one of the few men that make me worry- Hashirama is too kind to him.” Sayuriama pushed her gently back, her shoulders hurting a bit. Mito frowned, apologizing.

“No worries. But, Mito, have I not been jilted? I don’t really think I _ever_ want to see Madara Uchiha face to face again.”

“I’m not foolish, Sayuriama. You are _allowed_ to admire him. You are near an adult, and even this past month have grown immensely. Just don’t...” Sayuriama was feeling more tired, lethargic.

“It isn’t likely I am to see Lord Madara soon. I will avoid him send him a formal letter of gratitude, and be done with it. We don’t exactly go around in the same circles, unless I’m stalking him.” Mito crossed her arms, looking to the side.

“He has requested to see you.”

Sayuriama paled greatly. “I can’t.”

“You have too. Not now, but Hashirama will say yes when he thinks you are ready. As I said, _sometimes_ , he is too kind.” Mito rose, clear she was leaving.

Sayuriama looked to her in a panic. “What do I do?” It hurt to say, but she couldn’t live in constant agitation. She did not wish to be embarrassed. Clearly, he was up to something.

“Just rest for now. But brace your heart. I’ll be back to talk wedding after I meet with the Hatake clan.” Tsunada rose up and walked over to push Sayuriama back into bed. She hadn’t realized she had jumped up, as if to follow her almost sister.

Mito exited, her lovely Kimono trailing a bit behind her. The screen closed, it’s simple pattern of white flowers barely visible in the sunlight coming from the window.

“Tsunada...” The older women had turned to the window, moving things on the table below. As she turned, it was clear she had finally finished crying.

“Stupid girl.”

“Thank you.” They both hugged.

XXXXXXXXX

 

Her healing days were boring, but soon her arm was feel better, and she asked for ink and paper. She had received many letters, often people she had met in her class, and she vigorously tried to return the sentiments.

The passing of time made her hope that Madara would not make good on his promise to ‘check on her’. So she focused on happier things.

Young students wrote tender little lines, obviously spending the few coins they had to get it to her. She made sure to return some little gift in return to them. Some young women had finally gained courage to come and getting to know her, through the class, sent hilarious stories that made he laugh aloud. Others often had stories of heartbreak she listen too.  

This had been one of the greatest moments for her, the beginning of getting to know other girls her age. There had been some from young men, but even those had been mostly condolences, only a rare declaration of love to her. They had felt for her, being kidnapped.

She didn’t know the reason she hasn’t gotten more; Many potential pen-pals were fearful, due to the actions of Madara Uchiha.

This thought loomed over her, but she was grateful he she hadn’t heard a peep about him in weeks.

Tsunada often was the one who brought her the letters left at the gate of the compound with Senju guards who found them all too hilarious. She had done almost everything for her.

That’s why Sayuriama was surprised to find a young servant women asking to come in her room. Sayuriama nodded, thick hair braided over her shoulder, smiling her dazzling smile that made the young girl blush. She held out a single letter, a lovely white paper folded in half. As Sayuriama took it the girl stood to the side, obviously waiting for her to read it- another suitor, she thought full of playful humour.

She noted the seal, and her heart stopped.

“Who is this from?” She said quickly, surprising the girl.

“I’m sorry M’lady, i wasn’t told. I was given it by a boy at the gate.” Sayuriama carefully felt the paper, and realized it was top quality paper, something a mere boy couldn’t afford.

It could be Hayo, though he liked to visit more then write. They had something of a friendship going on. But he could afford this.

On one of the edges there was carefully pressed flowers, rich and fresh looking. The seal had been the give-away- an Uchiha fan. She found it strangely beautiful, but she hesitant to break it open and read it. As carefully as she could she opened it with a small knife, then turned to the table next to her to press it down for an easy read.

Her eyes skim it quickly, then a humourless smile.

“Ah”

“Lady Senju?”

“Hm. Is the boy waiting a reply?”

“Yes Ma’m.”

Sayuriama narrowed her eyes. The handwriting was elegant, but short, and she looked to see if she could immediately spot the sender. She wasn’t surprised that there was none listed, and she turned to the actual contents. She had her suspicions.

 

_Above the snow,_

_A falcon glides,_

_He desires spring,_

 

_Among the weeds,_

_A lily sways,_

_Yearning for flight_

 

_A fan waves,_

_To beckon her_

_Will she come?_

 

The poetry surprised her. She had expected something a little more direct, something more... _Uchiha._ Straightforward and not romantic in the least. She had hoped it would have been a simple ‘get better’ card.

No, that would have been too easy

At this point she had the strength to get up for small periods of time. She went to the window, thinking the message over. It wasn’t complex to understand. She had learned while she had been, um, _following_ him is that one of his favorite things was going out to the falconry. He owned several birds, but his favorite was a sleek bird she had never caught the name of.

_If it was him..._

She assumed he was the falcon... and she was the lily. It was clever, the part about the flight. She was a free sort of spirit. But... would she come?

She turned to the servant. “Could you ask the boy to return tonight? I wish to think on a reply.” The servant nodded and turned, but Sayuriama turned, a small blush on her cheeks. “And I’d rather no one else knew of these please.” The servant turned and she turned to the desk, reaching into a drawer to give her a coin.

“Of course ma'am.”

She left Sayuriama, who then continued writing to the various other people whose letters she answered with much greater ease. Tsunada passed frequently to collect mail and check on her and security had been more carefully considered and tightened in all the village.

It had been with great pain she got any privacy. Even Hashirama and Tobirama passed her more often, staying to talk with her, but she would rather spare them. There was no need to cause problems she could solve.

Lunch, and dinner seemed to fly by, and Sayuriama spend those evening hours alone, trying to think of a reply. She was wary of Madara, if it was him that wrote the letter, more than ever. She didn’t need Mito’s warning to know that she had been incredible innocent.

And that she still was.

By the time the servant came back, she had carefully written out what she felt was the most mentally challanging thing she had written in a long time. The paper she returned was not as fine as the one received, a typical of Konoha paper. It was a simple cream with black ink elegantly written inside, as she refused to send anymore to man who didn’t deserve it. Besides, there were not many thing she _excelled_ with, but she did have lovely handwriting.

She sealed the paper with wax, using a typical Senju motif.

The servant accepted it, and then Sayuriama pushed it out of her mind, going to her bed, more to think then sleep.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara stood outside of the gate, his genjutsu still portraying him to look like a rather stoic young messenger boy. He had to make himself do ‘boyish’ things, but as he paced he realized it may not have been entirely an act. He had waited most of the day, and was sure his clan was confused to where he went.

Then he saw the simple servant girl, who quickly gave him the letter, flushing at his young smile. The guards rolled their eyes, assuming some sort of young love thing between them.

Hashirama was always a bit _too_ lenient in such things.

Madara quickly walked away casually, and opened the seal with a flick of deceptively young hands. The handwriting was elegant, pointing to an intelligent mind. He had to admit he may have misunderstood... and underestimated her.

He knew that feelings sometimes did strange things. He couldn’t help wonder if he was undervaluing his own sentiments- Looking at the letter made his chest flutter- the warm feeling flourished there.

 

_Alone I remain,_

_Of weak flight,_

_Wings of petals,_

 

_Can a falcon,_

_Pity a mouse,_

_When he hungers-_

 

_How will it,_

_A delicate lily_

_Fare a storm?_

  


The young boy raised his brows, aware of the skepticism in the letter.

Heh.

He smirked as he realized that she was indeed, put off by him. No, this girl that had seemed so _willing_ to get to know him had shut herself off from him. He wondered if the other men that had written got such cool replies. He smirked at the attitude.

She, clearly, was _furious_ with him.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

The next day Sayuriama received another message, which shocked her for two reasons. First, as she had not expected a response from at her letter which had been less than cordial. She had thought she made it clear she would _not_ play with him.

The only reason she didn’t throw it away and be done with it was the second thing that shocked her: The method of arrival.

_Shit_

If she had any reason to question the sender, she knew for sure now.

The screen over her window was completely torn, and even the wood was battered from the menace that now sitting on her desk, fluffing it’s deceptive feather.

The said _Falcon_ who blew through in her window, making her shriek in terror. A young Senju ran in, looking between the Senju women and her uninvited guest.

“Oh my, he is quite large.”

Sayuriama nearly rolled her eyes, but elected to keep them on the bird who was pattering around her desk, ripping up letters, and making a huge mess.

That was the last time she’s dare try taking advantage of the early morning sunshine, She thought, her heart still beating loudly.

After a few more minutes of the Falcon walking back and forth on her dresser, seeming to purposely kick off the other letters on the desk, she gained enough courage to go forward but the bird he removed himself, only to settle on her bed. She picked up the discarded papers, putting them back on the desk, before turning to the bird.

She carefully went to the other side of the bed sitting down, thoroughly confused.

“What are you doing here?”

She realized that he was a messenger as the bird turned an arrogant head to her, rolled up note in the carrier at his sleek neck. He turned, obviously thinking himself a clever thing. He, for some reason, clearly thought she deserved his little lesson. She sighed at the ink that had been on the birds claws, transferred to her bed.

If this wasn’t Madara’s bird, she would cook him for dinner.

“Do you have a message for me?” The bird looked down on her. She turned her head to look at his collar. The title stated he was Ginko and there was a little Uchiha fan next to it. He turned a bit, knowing she must have been admiring him.

“Can I have it?” Ginko looked arrogantly at her, daring her to reach. Sayuriama knew better than chance that sort of look in birds of prey. She went to the door to the shocked servant. With another hand she waved a young man down. The poor boy blushed and almost dropped the linens he had been carrying, but he stood next to the girl. As the other servants looked at him, he knew he would be relentlessly teased for the next month at least.

“Could I please have some raw meat? And maybe clean linens?” She turned so the boy could see the large bird on her bed. He looked shocked and she just shrugged.

Both servants went as quickly as he could, raising many eyebrows with the request. The news eventually found it’s way back to Hashirama, who asked if it was a black falcon, and then returned to the endless paperwork that plagued him. Tobirama was out, and it was fortunate he didn’t hear of it till later.

 

It wasn’t a long wait for the servants to return, but Sayuriama took both the bowl and sheets, leaving them outside the screen door.

Now with the meat as leverage, the bird gave her the message.

 

_If it be proved,_

_Will the Lily open,_

_So it can deflower?_

 

Sayuriama’s face went white, then scarlet and mindlessly crushed the letter.

 _The cheek of it._  

After a moment, she opened it again, nervously, as if it could bite her. The meaning was clear, the double entendre right where anyone could understand it.

Tobirama would have a _fit._

 

Deep inside her, she felt a growl, which she couldn’t help but agree with.

 

She didn’t write him for a day, or at least until Ginko - _who she discovered would be a semi permanent feature living with her_ \- had instructions.

She had done her best to ignore the rude messenger, but the falcon starting invading her personal space as she attempted to go to bed.

 _Everytime_ she’d enter her room, the bird would _swoop_ her. _Swoop_.

“Stop! Fine, I get it!” She threw a pillow at it, and it landed on the window bannister. She huffed as the bird walked over to the desk, once again flinging papers off, forcing her to pick them all up again.

She wrote down a less than poetic reply. As the bird flew away, she crossed her arms, face determined.

 _‘Don’t think, Lord Uchiha, that just because I am a_ weak _woman, I will be wooed by such_ weak _sentiments.’_

If that didn't ward him off, then she didn’t know what she’d do.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

She didn’t quite understand Madara. He laughed when he opened the letter, appreciative at the attitude he didn't realize she possessed. Greatly confused Uchiha clan ninja watched the Clan leader light step out of the training fields early, giving everyone the day off.

 _Good lord_ , Hikaku thought.

The message didn’t deter him, and he continued to write; and the falcon continued to evade suspicious Senju clan members to harass the girl into giving a reply.

  



	15. Scroll 15

**Scroll 15**

 

The day Sayuriama could leave the compound for a walk was a gracious one. She had never appreciated the ability to simply walk as much as she did when she took a breath of air outside in the city. It looked as if it was going to be a lovely sunny day, and much had changed in the two months she had been confined to the Senju compound. Along with a young senju kunoichi, Aoi, she was permitted to wander the shops. 

There were even more clans now, and with the busy streets, her absence, and basic genjutsu to alter appearance, she had never felt more alive. At the end of the main road was now the a large building, from which the government seniors would help keep the city going. 

As she wandered she heard talk of it, the talk of who would be leader. She hadn’t realized, outside of her brother's presence, how important this decision was. 

She lead her new guard, Aoi, to a little ramen shack with wooden stools. They sat down and were immediately greeted by a kindly old man. 

“Welcome, I am Teuchin, and me and my daughter serve the best ramen in Konoha!” He was jovial, not a speck of a gloomy mood. After letting themselves be convinced into buying some of the ramen, the two girls settled in. Aoi was rather quiet, and Sayuriama followed suit. The men next to them were talking, not loudly, but enough to be heard.

“Yes, and I heard there was a fight about it-”

“No way, what happened?”

“The city council thinks Lord Hashirama should be the  _ Hokage _ . Apparently then Lord Hashirama said he thinks that Madara Uchiha should be instead, which didn’t go over we-”

“Madara Uchiha? No, he’s a mon-” Sayuriama nearly threw her bowl at the man.

“Ya, you heard about his brother?”

“Ya, but you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think Hashirama wants to cozy up Madara. With the Uchiha stuff. You know that sister Hashirama has.” The man whistled, much to Sayuriama’s disgust

“Ya, I saw her a few months ago. What a fox.” She clenched her hands, and Aoi looked to her carefully.

“Well I think that Hashirama’s wants to marry her so that arrogant _ Uchiha _ will be too focused on those  _ legs,  _ and what he could do with them-” 

“Yes of course-”

“So he can become Hokage without any -” 

The man was suddenly cut off.

Aoi stood turning to the owner, Teuchin. “I forgot we have an appointment. Can we take this?” The old man looked nervous, at the loss of the bowls. It was not easy to find replacements. The men who were talking were looking over now, quiet at the sight of a Senju.

Aoi put down several coins, far above the price. The man suddenly changed his mind, nodded. With steaming bowls in their hands, Aoi led them away into the street, turning down alleys until they reached a small house. To Sayuriama’s surprise they went in.

“Much more quiet in here. I hate that political talk- Those punks don’t know squat.” Sayuriama turned to her. 

“I agree.” Sayuriama suddenly felt a lot of affection for Aoi. “Your house?” Aoi nodded.

“Those shitfaced drunks just like gossip.” Sayuriama turned to her food, twirling a noodle around in the bowl.

“Yes, I guess it can’t be helped. People need their heroes, and villains.. and damsels.” Aoi sat down, her short hair flopping. Her eyes were dark brown and they had  _ that _ look. Sayuriama had seen that look so much lately that it ground at her. She turned her head and began to eat, so she didn’t feel the need to speak anymore.

Aoi began eating, not used the the sensitive nature of the Senju sister; a sensitivity of someone who’s never been hardened by years of war. While more Uchiha women were like that, docile, the Senju women had no restrictions. They didn’t feel the need to marry in the clan and preserve the bloodline, like the Uchiha. 

She awkwardly decided that patting on the girls back, who in return gave a small smile.

“You’re respected in the clan, aren’t you Aoi? You’re a great ninja?” The kunoichi had to nod, but she could hear the desire in the girl’s voice. Of the few rules she was given, this one was crystal clear- she could still see Lord Tobirama’s cool look- those same exquisite eyes as Lady Sayuriama, though harder, less friendly. Had had lost the compelling innocent looks, the ones saved for those who never had their fingers dirty. 

_ “Do not teach her any ninja arts, not training or anything. And keep her away from the Uchiha clan.” _

His words chilled her.

“I’m okay.” The girl laughed.

“I wish I could be like that.” There was a look in Sayuriama’s eyes, which Aoi sneered at, though she didn’t mean too.

“Like what? Able to kill a man?”

Sayuriama stopped and looked up, hearing her anger.

“To... To be able to protect the ones I love, and be respected.” Aoi would have  _ hated _ Sayuriama Senju, her distant cousin, if not respecting her for the conviction. It was hard not to judge that sort of unwieldy beauty as shallow. She had to admit there was more to her then what she wanted there to be. She was likeable, which made her more impossibly lovely. 

This would have been a much easier task if  _ he _ had not loved her. She still wished Hayo Uchiha had never set eyes on her beautiful face.

It had been a year and a bit ago, right as the treaty was set up they first met. Him, arrogant and cool, her hot-blooded and full of prejudice.

They had been assigned as part of a new team, an experiment- to find a way that the Senju a and Uchiha could work together. There had been distrust, anger, judgement. After a few missions it had blossomed into friendship. Now she knew that she loved him, and maybe, just maybe, the cool Uchiha had felt something in return.

But then, she appeared.  _ Like Aoi’s own personal demon.  _

And he fell in love with this girl. This girl who had  _ no interest _ in him, had  _ used him _ , and had  _ nothing besides a pretty face to offer _ .

Regardless, they had stopped talking. There was only so much that she could hear before even a kunoichi broke from it all.

And yet, she sat here, with this beauty, feeling pity for the ridiculous words ignorant men spout. “You are asking me to teach you.” Aoi stated. “Lord Tobirama gave me order-”

Sayuriama turned to her, eyes wide. “No, I promised I wouldn’t ask that to any Senju.” Aoi wrinkled her nose in distrust.

“Then what do you want?”

“To be your friend?” 

Aoi coughed in her arm. This girl was impossible.  

“Alright, Princess Senju. Let’s go check out this store you’re so desperate to see.”

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama knew she had convinced Aoi that she was ridiculous, and to her relief, it couldn’t have been any sooner. She would not pay close attention to her real intentions after that. She had wondered how she could continue to go to shops, sometimes for hours, not to buy, but to find.

Madara, growing more confident, had begun sending her more letters detailing her little clues, telling her to find certain trinkets and places. Sayuriama, though irritated, and insecure, was just competitive enough to enjoy it. 

Besides, Madara Uchiha seemed more like a man on paper. She hadn’t seen a trace of him, but had begun to enjoy the correspondence, much to his amusement. 

She knew he was playing on her loneliness, the desire she had to not be left alone to her thoughts. 

Kakazu haunted her nightmare.

The shop, boasting of having the finest fans in the land of fire, was interesting. While Aoi was looking at some trinket Sayuriama pulled to most recent letter from her obi. Though Madara was from a clan that couldn’t seem to smile, he made her laugh. It was stupid, but she  _ liked  _ the man. 

Even if it was a fantasy. Even if it all broke when she met him face to face again- but she was prepared for the eventual rejection. A man like that didn’t stay entertained by pawns that didn’t play according to the rules. 

She looked up.

And there was the said gift.

It was gorgeous, a combination of greens and blues- red and white floors climbing the edges. The wood was a light brown, and engraved with symbols. As she saw the little etchings, she was delighted to to see Senju mixed with Uchiha. As she picked it up, the shopkeeper came over. 

“Does the Lady like the fan?” She went red, then recited what she had been told to say by the letter. 

“Only the best for the finest.” The shopkeeper gave her an interested look.

“Then for the Lady, it’s been paid for.” She stepped back, wondering if she should really take it.  _ What  _ was he playing at. 

No, she couldn’t trust him at all.

Madara had indeed had her pick up small things before, but this gift was  _ very _ fine. The colors and insignia would be noticed if she carried it openly to any event, watched as she was. She carefully put it in her obi front where it was mostly hidden, her hand over the tip of the handle.

Still, it seemed rather... generous. 

“Thank you for your kindness.” She bowed, and her heart beat loudly, and she went to Aoi who had still been browsing. She look bored.

“Anything, Princess?”

“Nothing of consequence.” They left, entering the busy streets. Sayuriama kept her face down, long hair behind her in a knotted bow. 

After getting what she had looked for, Sayuriama ended the day early, and walked forward to the Senju compound. 

Aoi was relieved, but as they approached the gate, a young boy flew out of nowhere, knocking into Lady Sayuriama. Aoi, off her guard, turned in a furry, grabbing the lad and putting herself between the pair. The boy looked up, surprised at the hand on his collar. 

“Oh sorry.” He said blankly, not meaning it one bit.

“Damn right brat. What are you up to?”

“I was just running home.” Sayuriama looked at the boy, his dark hair and eyes. He was cute, and obviously, Uchiha.

“The Uchiha compound is on the other side of the city. You’re far from welcome here.”

“That’s why I was running.” Aoi moved to grab him, but Sayuriama stopped her.

“Please Aoi, it was an accident. I’m perfectly fine, and he’s no trouble. And he is welcome, of course.” Aoir was surprised at the stern look she got, but shrugged it off.

Aoi fiercely faced the boy. “Get lost.”

The boy gave her an angry look, then ran off. They turned into the gate and Sayuriama saw a gate guard laughing. 

“What the hell are you looking at, Gin?” Aoi asked, clearly upset. The guard straightened out, mildly. He didn’t bother to hide his smirk. 

“Defending the gate against young boys.”

He had to dodge her quick swipe.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Madara looked through his long lashes in humor at the little boy. For just a penny the boy was enough of a distraction for him to jump over the heavily fortified fence, creating several genjutsu to mask his travels. He had spend a pleasant day away from his duties, the paperwork, and looking down on the weak council of Elders that Hashirama said they should create. 

_ Democracy. Heh. _

Now with the decision of who would be the future leader, or as Hashirama said-  _ The Hokage _ \- before them, it was necessary to take a break before he started another war. 

It couldn’t be helped. If Izuna was here he would have called the whole thing a farce. Madara wondering what Izuna would have said about Sayuriama, for he  _ would _ have had an opinion, even if it was hard to get it out of the clever younger brother. Madara rolled his eyes about their younger days, Izuna ever teasing him about the fairer gender. He and Izuna would have already made some sort of plan to take advantage, as they always had. 

As his second in command people had underestimated Izuna, thinking him more mild and happier- almost silly. But in the clan there had always been more fear than they ever had for the Clan leader. Where Madara was always focusing his energy outwards, Izuna kept an iron control on those who would dare oppress within. 

Madara missed knowing he didn’t have to constantly fight every battle alone- always watch his back. 

There was no brother he could trust here.

 

But there might be a women he could.

 

Sayuriama Senju.

There was a similar sense of home he felt when he thought of her. He always assumed it would be incinerating, disgracing their clan if he permitted Uchiha to marry outside of the clan. It was against the clan tradition, and his own personal views to do so.

However, they were no longer simply the Uchiha Clan. They had to live in a village where is was crucial to build close allies. Even here, being weak would break them.

He needed to regain the unbreakable trust the Uchiha clan placed in him. They needed to know, he at least tried. 

Then they would listen.

 

If he married Sayuriama Senju, he could accomplish this objectives.

Peace. A world where children didn’t die young.

This was a pipedream, one that wasn’t working as Hashirama was dreaming. They had built the village for peace, yet the still fought other ninja clans that disagreed relentlessly.

The clan would listen to him.

And when they did, she would come. Sayuriama Senju was the wild card he never dreamed of falling into his hands.  _ Romancing  _ wasn’t something he excelled with, but he would convince her to fall back in love with him.

This girls chakra was being consumed almost completely by the nine-tailed fox, in that interesting seal on her stomach. The Fox was also a deadly weapon and those who knew, which he was sure was at least the Senju brothers, there would be little opposition to his decisions, whether through familial trust or threats to their bel. No village would dare oppose the Uchiha if controlled his clan members, Sayuriama Senju, and mighty nine-tails. 

There was also her extraordinary beauty, which would be no difficult thing to accept as a man.He wasn’t necessarily excited to change his entire life, but the prospect of a faithful wife was greedily filling his mind. She was trusting to a fault, as was evidence at her early advances. She clearly trusted the good intentions of people, though that attention had been no short venture to regain.

He had written pretty words, then lured her with challenges to find pretty baubles. She quickly gained courage and confidence, as he desired. 

She would need it, to be his women. 

She had been scared by ninjas after the incident, at first refusing to go near the shops that hosted weapons, but slowly, it had become fascination anew. There had been frustrating moments, if not unexpected. She was constantly attended too, and she probably didn’t realize that at least two ninja followed her around the market. They occasionally tried to get near Ginko, to read his messages with no luck. They quickly learned that bird had more than just pretty words to carry- Ginko somewhat liked Sayuriama, if he was not a little jilted that Madara sent him away often, and he carried the poetry diligently. He attacked all others with vicious ferocity. 

But it had been a necessary, to create the romantic image she wanted with no interference. If he had to ruffle up the Senju guards to do so, the better. 

He had to create an image of a man she’d be entranced by in the beginning. He himself would be strict and expected a docile wife, the  _ Uchiha _ way of things. She would have to find these things, as being the Uchiha class mistress was no easy task. But she couldn’t go back when she’d promised him her soul.

For a moment,  _ the voice _ , returned.

 

_ Your a fool, if you think a Senju will accept you. You are as Oil and Water _

 

Maybe, the haunting voice of Izuna would leave once he left. 

 

Hashirama was a week away from being married, and then after Madara could would announce his intentions publicly. Tobirama would be furious, but it was time for him to feel what it was to  _ lose _ a sibling. 

It was still war, and  _ fair _ game in that sense. It would also ease his own soul to know he had taken something from Tobirama. The man who had taken  _ everything  _ from him.

Once Madara watched her enter safely, he turned, back to work.

  
  


XXXXXXXXXXX

_ Weak _ .

The word still grated at her.

Sayuriama looked out over the practice field, empty. Aoi yawned casually, and went to sit on a root that had been recently cut. 

There had been an agreement between them, landing them in a compromise, here. Aoi was sick of shopping, and Madara had been unusually silent.

While Aoi couldn’t formally train her, it wasn’t against orders for her to  _ stop _ Sayuriama from coming here. Or occasionally yelling tips. 

Sayuriama untied the simple robe, revealing the simple ninja wear; a durable white kimono that reached mid knee, tied close with an simple obi. With black shorts, thick sandals, black gloves, and her hair braided back, she felt reasonably ready to jump around. Aoi’s gear that wouldn’t be missed. She could change at her village residence as well.

Aoi thought she looked rather ridiculous, with that perfect face.

Typical stuff that Aoi could be borrow from the Senju storehouses and returned with no clue. Also, she opened the pouch with a huge grin looking at some shuriken there. It had been years since she was allowed  _ near  _ those ones.

While ninjutsu would be forever out of reach, she still could almost practice taijutsu, and throwing. While she doubted she would ever actually have the ability to protect herself, the exercise did help her relax. And it was the first time since she had been kidnapped that she had courage to try. 

She looked to a target, a well chipped one, within distance a tree. She did get one cut pulling them out, but her a fling was enthusiastic. To both of their surprise, one of the shuriken landed on the target, barely missing the edge. 

Aoi raised her senju headband, nodded, then put it over her eyes.

“... it was okay. If you used your entire body it would be easier.” Sayuriama nodded. “Don’t lose my stuff- stars are expensive.”

After a few more throws, she ran forward to gather the shuriken. Few had hit the target, but there were many that few off, and she had to go into the brush to find them. She slowly and carefully walked around the bushes.

She kneeled down, putting the stars in the pouch at her side

“Aiming would be  _ more _ effective.” She jumped up, dropping the one she was holding. The shuriken almost hit her toe, but disappeared, leaving her shocked. Her head turned towards the voice, and her face went crimson.

With a smirk, dark eyebrow raised he examined the shuriken, giving her a moment to stand and step back. She demurely looked down, out of her element. 

“Lord Madara. Most ninja skills don’t generally work in my favor.” He raised an eyebrow, then handed the shuriken to her. She carefully took it, and stood bashfully, one foot turning in. Madara laughed, as  _ everything  _ about this women screamed how shamefully she found this situation.

_ Practicing without permission again? _

“Curious, surprisingly tenacious and yet lovely.” It may have been a more teasing then he should have, but he relished in bringing out the blush she wore so well.

He wanted to see her fight. 

She stepped back quickly, foot losing it’s balance, and falling backwards. He was lightening fast, grabbing onto her. She was a deep red, clearly  more embarrassed than she could admit. 

“Please, Lord Madara. I’m already aware that I’m a we-... an incompetent ninja.” He smiled, hands on her arms. She let go, regaining her poor footing. 

She was ready to leave- he could tell.

“Forgive me for intur-” He cut in, once again leaning on the tree, dark hair falling down in back. She flushed as his dark lips gave smile she couldn’t read.

“From what I’ve seen, you seem to have extraordinarily terrible balance. I would say, fix that, and you’d be a decent ninja. You’re no prodigy, but not a bad shot.” 

His cool assessment stopped her, and she nearly sliced herself when she moved to cross her arms. With a flash he was before her, hand grabbing onto her wrist. She thought he might actually be forward enough... enough to kiss he. Instead he tactfully took the kunai from her. 

This dangerous man had a talent for keeping her off balance. She bit her lip, but that didn’t stop her enthusiasm for jumping out.

“Really?” 

_ Damn _

“Heh. I’m free at the moment, so why don’t I help you?” Her face suddenly went cold, and then the girl stepped back, leaving him with the shurikan.

“My brothers rather I didn’t waste my time. Forgive me for saying silly things. I have a great respect for Lord Uchiha.”

 

His smirk became wide, as she looked towards to tree-line.

Madara smirked, by her side, a long arm around her shoulder. He was so close she could smell the musky scent. Dark hair brushed the side of her face. 

“It gives me great pleasure to irritate Tobirama Senju.” At that she  _ did _ laughed, but at that realization turned to him, serious. 

“I... I should go-”

“You did say we should be friends, little bird.” With his arm around her, he moved forward, somewhat dragging the women along.

She flushed. “Lord Madara, I assure you-”

“Madara. It sounds so much better than all the stuffy clan formality.” He turned his head, looking down. “After all, I am not terrible old, am I?” His voice was softer than usual. 

She would never go back to her skin tone, if he kept saying things like that.

“No, Lo- Ma.. Madara.”

_ He had cornered her.  _ Her heart beat wildly as he moved his arm lower, hand resting on the small of her back.

“Heh. Let’s start then.”

The tree line broke, and Sayuriama saw that her redemption was near.

_ Aoi _

It wasn’t going to be so easy. Before her was a completely different field, and Aoi was nowhere to be found. Madara saw her look, and as she turned to him he shrugged, almost conspiratorially, as if he didn’t know. 

Sayuriama frowned. She feeling very unsafe, if her stiffened was any indication. Madara’s smirk just got wider. 

Eventually, after walking her to a large tree, he removed his hand. He went to a branch plucking off a single leaf. She blinked, as he walked over, putting it on her forehead and keeping it there with one finger.

Now she was just confused.

“This is a basic technique to help chakra control. Focus on this leaf, letting your chakra go to one point.” He stepped back, and she tried her best, eyes shut. The small leaf made no moved, but fluttered to the group as she let it slip. Madara looked at the girl desperately flushed, reaching to pick it up to do as he instructed. 

She had not been expecting this, no. 

He flicked his Sharingan on, and looked at her pathways.

This may take longer than he thought. He needed to read up on the Uzumaki scroll copies to ensure he could it properly. No use in releasing the nine-tails just yet. 

He let her work on the technique, noticing her growing frustration. But she didn’t stop. Hours passed, and he leaned on the tree, watching her. Finally stood, surprising her when he took the leaf.

“Come back tomorrow, and we’ll try again.”

She stopped, realizing once again  _ who  _ he was. She bit her lip and swallowed. He stood tall, dwarfing her, and most men. He looked relaxed, giving the leaf a curious look.

She wondered how the tense atmosphere had turned from anxiety to patient teaching-  _ Madara Uchiha  _ attempting to teach her. She looked at the darkening sky, realizing how long her had been patiently waiting. She wasn’t expecting him to try this avenue.

Her one, real weakness. 

He believed in her. As if lightning struck, she turned to his smiling face, giving the leaf a pensive look, a small perfect hole burned in the center. She laughed when he held it up to his eye.

“Ah! So that’s where it came from.” He tilted his head, lowering the leaf. She leaned forward, taking the leaf from him. It was her turn to look at him through it. “The village  _ hidden  _ in the leaves!” 

Then, he threw his head back and laughed. 

“Hashirama thought it was too simple.” Sayuriama laughed, handing him the leaf back. 

“Didn’t he come up with  _ Hokage? _ ” She snorted, “Fire shadow?” Madara was pleased to look at the girl who had to put her hands to her knees, laughing. “You men are so stubborn.”

Humoured, he pushed his hair behind his head. “Ah, yes. And I think your brothers will be wanting you back soon.” She flushed. It did seem as if she was treated as a child. 

“Tobirama will be upset with me if he knew I was here...” She didn’t want to say everything about her current situation would give the younger Senju Brother anxiety and anger.

“And with me.” He ended. “Of course, he would feel protective.” Lord Tobirama was ever the Uchiha agitator, and had disliked Madara more than Madara him. There was no use holding anger against a fly, but it would give him satisfaction to see him squirm. 

They both awkwardly stood.

“You’re guard dog approaches.” He raised her hands, and too her shock, kissing both. “Perhaps I’ll see you here tomorrow-” She bit her lip.

“Yes, it would be pleasant.” He smirked.

“And-” He raised her chin. “I misjudged you. You are stronger than I thought.” 

He crossed his arms, smiling.

With a start she remembered Aoi, and popped up. 

“Shit.  _ Aoi _ !” He turned, as she started to run back.

“It’s the other way.”

He didn’t even start, but just laughed, as she turned the other way. 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

She put the leaf up, the chakra attempted to form once again. Several days had passed since she dared go back. 

Yet he was there like he expected her to come back all along.

But there wasn’t enough to manifest into something useable. Just enough to keep her alive. He silently walked forward, and put a hand on her stomach. Her eyes flickered open, and she tried stepping back. He once again held her still, enjoying the touch.

“Keep your eyes closed. I’d like to try something.” She did immediately. As a master, she seemed to trust him as quickly as he thought she would. As he placed a hand on her stomach, she gave a slight shiver. She had become more accustomed to his nearness, regain the confidence she had lost. 

He put his face in her hair, pulling her into his chest.

The seal throbbed as he touched it, feeling the pent up power of the nine-tails. 

Like he expected.

Yes, it was a four symbols seal, powerful and locking away the chakra. But on top of that, there was another seal, a two symboled seal.  The four symbols did lock away the Nine-tails, but the two symboled seal was like an iron door- it locked away almost all the chakra she produced, making her unable to form chakra, and what’s more, it had a provision, making her unable to perform taijutsu. That way, the nine-tails could never escape.

He hit her neck, knocking her out.

If she weren’t not a royal Senju, there would no doubt be a bloody trail of suitors, and the man who won her would simply be the most powerful man alive. 

He smirked. 

It didn’t seem like Hashirama to do such a thing, heartless and clever. No ninja at their level didn’t crave for their siblings to be capable to defending themselves. What a show, the glorious Senju brothers-  _ a sister who was a jinchuriki.  _

There was no shame greater.

No, somebody else had made her incapable of such, perhaps out of fear of the nine-tails. No doubt she must have some sort of inkling, and that made her more admirable. Knowing that the tables were uncontrollably against her, yet, still trying. It was adorable. 

He narrowed his eyes, then released the two symbol seal. 

He had to hold his ground as a thick chakra bubbled from within. It flowed like a damn released, focusing on where the leaf had been. He could see her chakra form on her forehead, then, as she lost control, it fell back in her body. He was quick, laying her down to the ground, finding the pressure points that would even out the flow. She was breathing hard, clearly feeling the rush, the release of a thick mix of chakra. 

_ Now,  _ No doubt, this was a Senju before him. 

He saw threads of red chakra intertwining with the normal blue, careful to make sure nothing would disrupt her normal functions. It slowly petered until he felt her relax in his arms, and he sat down. She was laying in his lap, looking exhausted. 

Hours passed.

As the sun set, she finally opened her eyes. Groggily she rolled her head, to look into his face, frowning.

“What just happened?” 

He thought quickly, how this situation would best suit him.

“As I believed. How long have you not been able to run? Especially when your intent was training and fighting?” She blinked, eyes wide.

“Since I was little... but how would you know that?”

“When I previously had the honor of rescuing you, I noticed your chakra seemed off. I saw a seal there was a seal that stopped you from doing any form of ninja work.” She paled considerable and he smirked. “A rather ridiculous thing for a Senju.”

“What? Is that all?” She said, frantic.

“What else would there be?” His voice was smooth, relaxing. She relaxed visibly, nodding. 

“I was attacked by rogue ninja when I was younger. Several healers looked over me, however they said I would die if I removed the seal.” Madara smirked at the gusto of such a tale but frowned when he saw the empty look in her eyes, knowing she was  _ very  _ far away..  

“None were  _ Uchiha _ . You poor girl, all this time.” He lied. She rested back, and he held her close.

“I ...feel like I can feel the world.”  

There could be little to compare to her situation. Like a bird discovering it’s wings were meant to fly; a Senju discovering its power.  

 

He would teach her how to fly- After all, didn’t he adore Falconry?

 

They sat there for a few hours, talking.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

He had invited back, once again. Weeks passed, something he came, other times she had instructions, specific, on what to train.

Aoi never seemed to notice.

It was one burning hot day that it happened, when he crossed the threshold.

She was laying on the grass, panting hard. He lay a respectable distance away, one leg over the other, staring. She didn’t mean to stare, but couldn’t help but admire the man. 

With his eyes closed, he looked almost cute. 

She didn’t blush as much, the man treating her more like a kind Sensei- which meant infinitely more.Madara seemed much younger than before, no less majestic, but not as menacing. It was like being next to a tiger. He seemed so  _ misunderstood  _ by all the things she heard. There was talk, and had always been. Less often sent those contradicting notes through Ginko, the pages filled with words that he couldn’t seem to say to her face.

She often wondered why he was so careful with his words around her. He had to care for her- but he let what he was feeling show. He occasionally held her hand, and hers tingled at his touch, but he seemed to keep her at a distance. 

 

Right now he seemed content, eyes closed.

She was shocked when  _ she  _ made that first move.

She could feel his heart when she laid her free hand on his chest, and he gave a grin, not bothering to do anything but smirk. When Tobirama had once wrote to her, after the Senju had killed Madara’s brother, he admitted that the Uchiha was no longer as an ordinary man. 

It even was surprising to hear  _ Hashirama _ say he thought he though Madara more than capable of being gentle. She knew the story of how Madara hadn’t let Hashirama kill himself later. 

He was respected, at least.

“Your hearts not even a bit fast.” She muttered softly, feeling peaceful, but nervous. He had been throwing shuriken for hours, showing her the best stance for various situations.

He gave a soft smile, as if to encourage her. He was showing a side that she knew many people would never see. 

She knew she admired him. He was intelligent, considerate, and devastatingly handsome. He didn’t expect her to be something she wasn't, and didn’t judge her against her brothers. He didn’t demean, nor deride her, and was altogether a different man than before.

 

He obviously felt sort sort of affection for her proven mostly through his actions. But was he doing this to spite Tobirama?

Ot because he felt that his affection could run deeper?

He had called her lovely, often, but it had been like her brother’s casual acceptance. But he knew  _ that wasn’t who she was. _ It didn’t define her. 

She was broken out of thought when he put a large, gloved hand over hers.

At her staring, his grip tightened, pulling her hand closer to his chest, to his heart. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her of the sheer power in him. 

“Lord Madara...”

“Madara,... just Madara, Sayuriama.”

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. It was the first time he had called her given name with no trace of snide manner. 

She knew it was over. He had her heart, and could destroy it, likely to hurt Tobirama. 

Regardless, she turned, ready to kiss him.

Her hands suddenly hit grass, the long strands ticking her face- Madara was gone, only the indent of where he was laying showing he had been there. 

Her heart beat so loudly she could hear it in her ears

She stood up, feeling strange, insecure, but elated. Yes, this was what Mito had warned her about. She would not recover from this love without a wound that would pierce her soul.

Her heart jumped, as she realized what Hashirama saw in this man he had known for so long, she realized why he defended him so fervently. Why he had been willing to die to prove that Madara  _ mattered.  _ That he was like a brother.

She wondered if Hashirama would see the irony, as she stood, pulling back the long, wild hair she made.

She found a sleeping Aoi, and after re-robing, they both slowly walked back 

The next day she went back, but he didn’t come.


	16. Scroll 16

**Scroll 16**

 

The day before the wedding was full of preparations and it much to Sayuriama’s mixed relief and disappointment that Ginkgo hadn’t appear, nor his master. She found that she was missing both.

Today Hashirama and Madara would meet with the Daimyo who had been  _ difficult _ in funding the village, supporting it’s ninja system. 

Tobirama had less then politely called it ‘chicken walking’, which had made her laugh as Hashirama fall into a depression. Finally, it seemed if the dreadful old man would be forced to making a decision in their favor. There was little reason for him come to their village otherwise, to put himself in that kind of danger.

She thought of this as was more than busy, running from task to task;  She had checked on Mito’s ceremonial robes, making sure they were pristine, counted the traditional rosary’s 21 beads, making sure they were perfect- to represent their family, and the union. As soon as the  _ Shiro  _ and  _ uchikake  _ were spotless, and the beads were all in order, she had been rushed to fold one thousand and one origami cranes. Which was ironic, since the other clan members were using their incredible speed to move their hands at lighting fast pace. She still persisted, full of new energy. She could feel life now, and it pulsated at her to keep going. The clan seemed to be surprised at her new grace, the increased speed she was moving. Not even Tsunada could keep up, and after while, she left for a nap.

Around lunch she was finally forced  to stop and eat a bit by Mito telling her other members of the family could do the rest. As she said drily ‘ _ her enthusiasm was wearing down even the most seasoned ninja in the clan’. _

The representatives of the Uzumaki clan had been met with joy, by both Mito and Sayuriama very familiar with most. They all seemed impressed by how much more mature she seemed, making her flush in gratitude.

Then, Sayuriama  _ threw herself  _ into helping with the food. The poor women who had lost her husband was compensated in money and hands to help, was almost overwhelmed by the young woman's endless smiles. 

Most of the village had fallen into this sort of celebration, and an impressive sight. Bright colorful paper had been strung up, round lanterns with the new village symbol. Flowers had been found, dangled and made into various wear, and the entire place was full of anticipation. 

Not only was this solidifying Hashirama’s responsibility to women he loved, but solidifying in their eyes how capable and mature he was as leader. Sayuriama wondered, a sweat drop on the back of her head, if most of the villagers had ever seen how ridiculous Hashirama’s changed mood  _ really  _ could be. 

She did have the thought, that maybe, she was working hard as to  _ not  _ think about the Uchiha that had suddenly disappeared from her life. She knew he was busy, in and out of the village, but it still stung. Once again she noted, they didn’t go in the same circles.

If Hashirama noticed Madara avoiding him, he said nothing. Nor had either brother said anything about her chakra flow. She hadn’t heard anything about the Uchiha leader, which meant Madara must not be mentioning their ‘training sessions’.

 

So she worked instead or worried. He had her heart, but if he didn’t want it... It still was his.

After everything had been arranged carefully, food distributed to those in need, presents counted Sayuriama managed to sneak away, using the skills Madara had taught her. She practiced scaling the Senju clan walls, a bit unsteadily.

With a thick straw hat and a simple robe, she managed to walk the overflowing, drunk, streets in utter obscurity. The celebrations were no longer just about Hashirama and Mito, but about the prosperity promised, the future created by all. 

The arrival of the Fire Daimyo was no small thing either. 

As she slipped her way through the shops, she finally managed to gather a decent vantage point, behind a group of children for the envoy of the Daimyo.

She heard the nearby march before she saw it. As the large caravan passed, she slid her hat lower over her face, keeping the scarf tight around her face, bubbling with excitement.

The energy and warm exuded by this event was magical. Truly, their village was coming together.

Then she saw the large litter, decorated in shining gold. It was pulled by giant men, their shoulders bulging from the weight of the plump, ugly man who was lounging inside. She assumed this was the Fire Daimyo. 

Beside him sat a young man, looking about her age, who was incredibly thin and nervous looking. She must have risen her hat to get a better look, because the young man, twitching, turned and made eye contact with her.

She saw his mouth drop open, eyes widening. For a moment she smiled, then cheekily, she winked.

He flushed tomato red. 

She slipped back into the ally, seeing the poor boy trying to follow her, but she crossed the corner.

Once a while, it was nice to know that she  _ could  _ actually make someone else blush. Seems like her face was pretty as ever. But, she  _ had  _ noticed she was gaining some muscle tone as well.

Before his starring could bring her more attention she fled into the alley and ran home. The Senju guards looked in shock when a sweaty Sayuriama ran passed them alone. 

She couldn’t help but laugh all the way to finding Mito, raised an eyebrow, but was too stressed to ask. Tsunada came also. The evening passed quickly, and Mito looked more and more restless until both other woman put her to bed. Making her tea, and talking to her until the nervous bride slept.

Then, Sayuriama went for a wash.

As she closed the screen door of the Senju bath house she remembered that she had failed to buy a new kimono as Mito asked her too. 

Not that was a  _ big _ deal, but not it was a special event.

She unrobed in the empty area, one of the most private bath houses in the Fire country. She found her soap, on the labeled table, went to the cool water, and washed herself off in the lonely area. She slipped to the hot spring, folding over arms over the edge

It  _ had _ been a wonderful day and she could only hope tomorrow would be also. 

But, her mind wandered to the softly smiling expression of a certain Uchiha Lord. She slipped deeper in the water, wondering if he ever thought about her when he had a free thought.

She sighed.

After, she re-robed and hurried back to her room. After a short prayer of thanks to whatever gods had given her the day, she went to the dresser where a leaf had fallen into through her open window. 

She put it to her head. After five minutes of the leaf staying, she brought it down, looking at the small hole it created. With her own smile, she brought it up to her eye, looking through the hole.

The genuine laugh was far to easy to remember.

 

Then she went to bed.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

It was dark in here, just as she remembered. As she walked forward she saw the large fox ahead, already aware of her presence.

“Senju brat. It’s been a long time since you come.” The deep voice growled, but seemed to hold a trace of softness.

She nodded slowly, realizing he was correct. It had happened more often in the quiet land of Eddies, with the Uzumaki clan, when she had felt so much more alone.

“I wondered if I had lost the ability to do so, Lord Kurama.” The beast chuckled at her kind words. 

She had never been  _ anything  _ but kind to the angry beast locked inside her.

“Your life has been rather  _ filled _ .” The large beast lifted himself off the floor, giving a mighty stretch before sitting again, somewhat showing off to get a reaction. 

The girl was always filled with awe at the magnitude of the fox- something that had never changed. Kurama had enjoyed the feelings this small insignificant human had. It had been rare if not non-existent to feel things like it before being forcefully locked away in her. A silver lining to his hell.

“Yes- of course you’d know. I’m finally forming Chakra!”

She boldly walked towards the seals that were constraining him, the open trust and love apparent. It was difficult to dislike her for the kindness, but she was foolish. 

_ Especially _ her thinking that Madara Uchiha had good intentions. 

Both they had both lived on the edge so long he had no desire to have his energy taken, broken and sealed away. He was forced to use the chakra of the Senju, while not terrible, was not his. The intensity of being starving often made him vulnerable, almost emotional. 

The fox had somehow become somewhat emotionally attached that he dreaded looking in the women’s eyes- feeling her sympathy.

A small hand  _ almost  _ touched his large paw. He must of looked what he felt, because she was reckless as ever to console him.

“Forgive me. I know this is not ideal for either for you. But now, we can do things.” The fox snickered. Oh, she was right. This arrangement had not been an agreement on either side. 

The image flickered by, both sides remembering.

It was raining that day, but the cold felt like deluge was roaring. Tall men with dark faces, thick ropes tying down young hands. The horrible sound or metal biting flesh.

At that the girl pushing away.

“You wished to come and talk?” The kitsune spoke, leading away from the terrible memory. 

“And you wanted too. Else I wouldn’t be here.”

Ah, there was her sass.

“That’s not in question, is it Senju. It’s what  _ in _ my question. W _ hat you’ll do next. _ ”

She stopped, knowing immediately what he meant. She tried not to show the blush on her cheeks. It was one thing for her family to disapprove of Madara Uchiha.... It was another when a Tailed Beast was doing it.

“You always disapprove of what I plan on doing. You know, young women and tailed beasts tend to have different opinions on how life should be lived.”

“Maybe because humans only have one life, is why they waste it so foolishly.” 

Sayuriama folded her arms as the beast proceeded to look all too amused, his toothy grin larger than a village block.

“Then you don’t care what I do?”

“If you misstep I will be released. If you die, I will be reincarnated. It will make little difference, but it’s not a pleasant  _ feeling _ . So in a way, I do care.”

“It would be rude of me to expect more.” She looked so dramatic, as if she was an actress. “You aren’t obliged to support me, despite being linked by bonds stronger than steel.”

Her irony was thick.

The beast chuckled.

She wasn’t sure what Kurama wanted her to get out of their little chat. She stepped forward, as gracefully as she could. The fox gave a deep sigh, as he knew she would not release him. 

She was going to speak again when there was a loud squeal of a falcon Ginko. It echoed down the corridors of her mind, and the place shifted, the fox raising it’s head. The ground shifted, disappearing for moment. She looked to the fox, desperately wanting to know what this immense source of knowledge could proffer. 

He smiled again, large eyes burning.

“ _ I would be careful of Madara Uchiha.”  _ Now if that didn’t leave a shiver to her bones, nothing would. 

The fox laughed riotously as she was pulled back into reality.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

A large falcon stood above her and she let out a groan, swatting at the angry bird. Groggily she woke up and blinked as the large bird continued to claw the blanket above her. She sat up in surprise, realizing her screen was half open, seals gone. 

This bird was unbelievable. 

“What are you doing? Tsunada  _ will  _ blame me!” The bird turned it’s head, like she was an a creature beneath him. The  _ cheek. _

It rolled its intelligent dark eyes before jumping over to a large package at the end of her bed. She stared at the thing, then turned dumbly to the bird. The bird, on the notion she was finally coherent, was using its beak to pull off the strip of paper in the little carrier on its leg. 

Once he accomplished this, he gave a mighty cry then tore his way through the rest her screen. 

A knock came to her door. Most of the servants were aware on some level of the bird that had chosen to irritate the girl. She told the other person she was fine.

She sighed, looking at the rising sun through the ripped screen- how did he manage to rip it complete off?

Hopping out of the bed she went over to the large paper cover gift. In confusion she opened it and found herself looking at layer upon layer of rich, expensive fabric, embroidered so carefully it must have taken weeks to accomplish.

She might accidentally outshine Mito. Her hand grabbed the note, and rushed to open it up.

 

_ Don’t make me come and put it on you. _

 

She went so red the rest of her looked like a ghost She heard Ginko outside, confident the falcon wouldn’t leave unless she followed his master's instructions.

Oh gods. 

How well did Madara Uchiha have her cornered.

  
  
  
  



	17. Scroll 17

**Scroll 17**

 

Hiruzen Sarutobi looked up, and he lost all powers of speech. 

She was a older than him, but there was no denying that she was the reason his heart has decided to beat. The young kid watched as she approached closer, beautiful and gentle looking, demure, and he knew she was perfect. 

Her robes were gorgeous dark blue embroidered with gold and white silk thread. Red flowers dotted the edges There were subtle red accents in the outfit, which highlighted her complexion, creating an ethereal visage with her dark hair surrounding the bowed lips.

“Hi.” Her voice was breathy, low as if to ask him a secret. Other men in the room looked jealously at him as she gazed him a smile that promised indecent things. “Sarutobi, correct?”

“.....” 

He couldn’t answer, as the words were stuck in his scrawny pubescent throat. She looked at him, a concerned look, and slim hand looked like it would reach out to him. Instead, it stopped, putting a long silky strand of hair back behind her ears.

“Are you okay?” He managed a slight nod. By this point the entire squadron he had come with had stopped, girl looking jealous, and boys staring in unabashed affection. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just was wondering if you would direct me to the ceremonial hall. I lost my way in the crowd.” She gave a demure grin, looking as nervous as he felt.

He realized she must have singled out this moment to talk to him- and this made Hiruzen felt hot under his collar. She must have noticed how diligent he was in her classes, how handsome- she must think him trustworthy and a worthy suitor. 

For a moment he imagined their entire future, a glorious wedding, the children, the glory. 

Stars appeared in his eyes, and he smiled, dumbly at the highly confused Sayuriama. 

“Hello?” She said, waving a hand in front of his face. Some of his comrades snickered, aware of the love struck position she had inadvertently put him in.

 

Sayuriama wondered if the poor boy was okay. She waved a hand in front of his face, but there was no response.  _ How peculiar,  _ she thought. She looked to the other boys near, all in a similar state.

She might have been  _ doomed _ to figure out how she had caused several young males to go into cardiac arrest, and miss the wedding, but a large hand suddenly appeared on the table next to her. 

She turned to look, and suddenly she felt a little like she was going into cardiac arrest.

“ _ Late,  _ Lady Sayuriama?”

His deep voice savored the phrase, and as much as the the woman seemed entranced, the young ninja boys all stopped their young daydreaming. 

All turned to fear at the owner of the voice, his tall frame creating a menacing figure. His long fingers reached across the space between their hands, and he grabbed hers. 

With a swift, derisive gaze, all the boys were gone, fled to safer waters. A guppy didn’t play in a shark’s territory if he didn’t want to get bit. 

 

Sayuriama felt the voice to her core, the reality of how much she missed him.

She had forgotten just how formidable this man could be with no thought. She automatically had lowered her eyes, as if to escape the sharp look he was giving her. He seemed cold, imposing, rather than the gentle Madara she had seen last.

The room in the Hokage’s building had been bustling when she entered. Now she realized, it was void of any person it had. 

“Lord Uchiha.” 

Madara looked at her, a small smirk around his mouth, brows raised into his dark hair. She noticed that the creases under his eyes seemed darker, more embedded than usual.

“My,  _ little sayuriama,  _ you seem very demure today.” He raised her hand, making her gaze look to the motion. He caught her eyes, and held them. “But you said earlier in our acquaintance, I insist we lower the formalities.” 

She flushed. He knew they were in a formal place-

“I was... mistaken. It was rude of me to insist.” There was the pluck that made her so interesting.

“I rather thought it was  _ endearing.”  _

Sayuriama wondered if her face would ever be spared a blush from this infuriating man. It seemed not to be, for he used his iron grip to bring  her closer to him.

Too close.

“ _ Lord Uchiha.” _

“Your absence has made me feel like a wall come between us.” He continued, not letting her break into his words. There was something about the way he said that, do lightly that made her a little angry. She tried pulling her hand back, and graciously, he let her go back, if not letting go of her wrist. She couldn’t believe him- It was like he was an entirely different person.

“With all respect Lord Madara, you were the one that has mysteriously disappeared. I have been right where you could find me.” 

“Heh.” She raised her head at his  disrespectful laugh . She pulled her hands out of his, glad to he didn’t fight. The Uchiha seemed  _ off. _

“You like playing hard to get, don’t you.” She raised her nose. “You don’t make it easy on either of us.”

Now she was angry and confused. As if  _ she  _ was the problem.

“I don’t wish to play a game, my Lord. If I wanted too, I could find an easier person to deal with.”

He had to admit with her figure, she probably could. 

“So if you are done  _ playing _ with me, and have no use for me, I shall do my best to remain unseen in your eyes.” 

Irate, her ever heightening blush turning into anger, she turned to leave him,  _ just as he had her _ . He raised a thin brow.

Ah, that wasn’t acceptable.

He took a step towards her, and she turned back.

“I am  _ trying  _ to storm out.” 

Oh, he just couldn’t get enough of this one. 

She suddenly found herself against a wall, Madara’s body flush against her. The lovely kimono had been opened, revealing a good deal of her neck, and the beginning swell of a chest. 

His hands were on either side of her head, forehead against hers. She could smell the scent of a recent wash, and then something less pleasant beneath.

Alcohol. Dear god, he was drunk.

She froze in fear.

He leaned forward, putting his mouth to her ear, leaving shivers down her back, not all unpleasant ones.

“Women. do you question my actions, or the motivations?” Sayuriama didn’t answer, could not without brushing her lips on his sharp cheek. Her breathing had become lighter, shock making her feel faint.

 

Then, after he moved his lips to hers, she was sure she’d never exist in the same way again.

It was a fiery kiss, not the chaste, affection one she had always imagined giving him. No, this kiss seemed to consume everything in its path, ravage and entrap. A kiss of mistresses and temptations, women seduced in the darkest nights by a dark god. Her temperature rose substantially, and she realized at some point she had ended up grabbing his shirt tightly, not knowing how to respond, but to continue as her seduced her mouth to open, his tongue to play with her.

This was a man with experience.

The way he had wrapped himself around her like she was going to become a part of him, by force. 

A voice in her head, distantly tried to reach her to no avail.

 

And then it ended. 

  
  


There she stood, alone. Her kimono looked perfectly in place, though she had felt a hand tightening on her waist. With a pat, she knew her hair was still flawless. The only sign that he had ever been there was the only thing he couldn’t fix; a slight soreness on her lips. 

She touched them gingerly, shocked.

 

She would have missed the wedding but for Tsunada. She came through the screen door, huffing, turning to the ravished girl.

“Where have you been! You’re late!”She stopped, mouth opening a bit. “And  _ where  _ did you get that Kimono?”

“With Aoi.” Sayuriama lied quickly, eyes wide and innocent.

She then had been dragged up several sets of stairs to the top room, and much to her embarrassment, saw the entire, company of close friends was ready. She had to walk all the way to the front, mortified to be the center of attention.

She stiffly went to Tobirama’s side, her face turned to the windows, and not her brother. He gave her a look, but the ceremony started almost immediately, and he turned to attention. 

Sayuriama turned, nodding to her nervous, oldest brother.

Hashirama briefly smiled at her, then looked back to his bride. Mito was looking equally happy, gorgeous in the white kimono, hair that trademark Uzumaki red. Hashirama and Mito looked stunning, happy and joyous. 

Sayuriama looked to the mostly familiar group, trying not to be obvious. She could  _ feel  _ his eyes.

Most eyes had turned to the ceremony, but there were a notable pair directed at her, not in the least ashamed. A few Uchiha representatives that Madara brought looked coolly to the front, but Madara’s gave her a languid look, clearly not appropriate, ending in a smirk that made her turn away. 

Madara was drunk. 

She stiffened as Tobirama put an arm around her shoulders. She flushed, looking at her frowning brother. No, Tobirama was not happy about it.

Even turned away, she could still feel his eyes. 

The ceremony was beginning to feel slow. She looked around, eager to find anyone else to focus on. With a start, across from her she saw a familiar thin young man staring at her, hands fidgeting nervously. He blushed as she caught him.

He seemed to panic, shoulders slumping. He didn’t seem to have very high self esteem. She gave a warm smile to let him know she was not angry with hi.

As she turned back, she caught the end of it- Three sips, and it was done; Hashirama and Mito were bound, married. 

She sighed in relief, flicking her fan out. But as she opened it, she realized her mistake.

She had accidentally grabbed the fan Madara had given her months ago. She looked at the fan, realizing that the colors were all too similar to the robes she was wearing.

She was completely adorned in the Uchiha colors. Then she finally put the puzzle pieces together.Oh yes, Madara had been very clever. He had led her to look the part of a woman who was called for, as if she was saying that she was off limits. This gift was an open declaration of war on any male that dared seek of her attention. 

People began to leave their seats, and Tobirama left her for a moment to go congratulate the new couple.

She looked up in crowd, straight at him. He put a finger up to his lips as if to tease her. There was no secret. He had claimed her to all of Konoha elite, in this room. 

She waved herself with the fan, feeling hot. She turned to look at the happy couple who had gone to the balcony, then to Tobirama who looked back at her, motioning her to come with him. He had forgone his metal headband, but he still looked stern. He gave her a one over, raised an eyebrow, and then looked to the fan. His entire demeanor went black, and She put the fan away before he could throw it.

“You have been thoughtless.”

“It was a gift.” She said quietly, knowing that he already knew- there was no point in lying. 

“ _ Sayuriama _ .” Yes, he was very upset.

He grabbed her hand, leading her to stand behind the couple. Marching like a battalion they went to the balcony, like royalty, to wave down the giant crowds that had come.

Sayuriama silently stood before the overflowing crowd, celebrations bursting beneath her, but feeling isolated, the one wilting flower in the company.  

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

A few hours passed, and she didn’t dare leave Tobirama’s side. Not that she thought he’d let her- it was his punishment. She sighed as he continued to gaze into the crowd, his cool looks not being noticed.

She didn’t notice the painfully thin boy who had nervously walked away from his father, to stand by her side. He seemed like a mouse, drawn to cheese, and couldn’t believe his luck when no one said anything.  

The boy’s face went warm as she suddenly turned, realizing he was there. For a minute he seemed like they would stand there staring, but she  gave a kind smile. 

“Oh hello.”

“Hi.” He managed to speak out. She gave a bow, and he felt hot, nodding in return.  _ I know I saw you earlier, he said to himself. _

“You’re the future Fire Daimyo, aren’t you?” The boy felt a wash of happiness. Usually he was referred to as the sickly son of the Fire Daimyo, or not at all. He knew he wasn’t that impressive physically, and that his younger brother stood a good chance of becoming the daimyo because he  _ was  _ sickly.

And she was the beautiful sister of the most powerful ninjas in the world. He thought he saw the white haired Tobirama flicker his eyes to him, but he made no move to stop him.

And she was being kind to him. He felt that he could  _ talk  _ with her, that she wouldn’t judge. His confidence grew enough to muster a feasible , quiet sentence. 

“Ah, yes! Please call me  Takumi . And you are Lady Sayuriama.” She seemed pleased at the obvious respect he was showing. 

“Thank you, Lord  Takumi . You do me honor. How are you enjoying Konoha?” She seemed to fluster a bit, and lowered her eyes.

“It’s been most pleasant! I wish I could stay here all the time! There’s so much to do.” She grinned.

“To be honest, we’re relieved you think that. We were nervous that you wouldn’t like us.” He actually laughed at the thought of the Senju brothers nervous.

“I don’t think you need to worry at all. My... father, he is, well, liking the village. I’ve heard that you teach in the school.” She beamed, striking him in the heart. 

“Yes! That’s so wonderful to hear- please don’t be a stranger. You seem like a wonderful person.” She stuck out her hand, which he gently grasped, relishing in the smooth skin, the warm grip.

“Y..Yes, of course.” This was the single most wonderful moment of his life.

He got a little confused, when she suddenly looked nervous, turning into her brother. He needed to keep her attention, and started talking more boldly than he would normally dare.

“Well, what did I tell you! No worrying about this place. I love it!” His happiness was at an all-time high, so he was a bit put out when she seemed to go mute, a strained smile on her face.  When she didn’t answer, a voice behind him did.

“What a pleasant thing to hear, little  _ Takumi _ . I hope you find our endeavour worthwhile. I know your Lord Father was a bit  _ skeptical  _ when I passed by.”

All the bravado Takumi had gained was suddenly gone. He, of course, had to turn and face that familiar dark voice that still gave him nightmares. 

_ Madara Uchiha. _

He hadn’t even realized he turned, stepping back until he had bumped into Lady Sayuriama. They both stumbled back into Tobirama, who turned, grabbing his sister. 

He gave a questioning look to the Lordling who was cowering in front of his sister, then narrowed his eyes at Madara. 

Madara yawned at the scene, looking bored waiting for an answer he knew the boy couldn't give him. Sayuriama thought it couldn’t turned into a more misunderstood situation; a drunk, possessive Uchiha, an over-protective brother.

It couldn’t get worse, Sayuriama cringed. 

It did.

 

The Fire Daimyo had finally noticed his son had seem to slink away, and turned to find him. He never let the boy off easy. His eyes lingered on Sayuriama as he left the front of the balcony. 

Ah  yes, this was the reason he came.

“Ah! Uchiha!” The Fire Lord grabbed onto Madara’s arm, making the Uchiha give a slightly concealed sneer.“So you know this delicate flower? Well, it seems as though Takumi has already I wouldn’t have expected it of the boy!” 

Takumi flushed at the insult. 

“So only I’m left. Introduce us.” Madara had turned to glare at the demanding old man who grabbed him. The Daimyo smirked at him, as he knew Madara could not touch him.

“It would be best to ask her  _ actual _ family, Lord Daimyo,” Tobirama interjected coolly. “This is my younger sister Sayuriama Senju.” 

 

As proper, Sayuriama bowed as best she could as the lordling had mindlessly grabbed onto in fear. She carefully patted his shoulder, urging him to let go of her arm.At the movement, the poor boy hopped off her, crimson. He was clearly feeling overwhelmed at the sudden tension.

Madara was looking between the boy and his father like he would like nothing better then to beat them into the ground. 

Sayuriama knew immediately that it could end poorly for all of them if drunk Madara felt jilted, and the daimyo wasn’t attended too. She physically stepped back, putting distance between Takumi and herself, her smile turning into a mask. 

“I am pleased to meet such a distinctive figure in country. We all hope you consider our village worth of your attentions.” The old man laughed and walked boldly forward.

“Such correctness, but you indeed make a convincing argument, with all your pretty smiles.” Sayuriama almost glared, but she was quick to form a large smile. “If all women in the village were as beautiful as you, I would of had no choice.”

“You do me more honor than I deserve.” She said demurely, giving a typical response she knew would please the Lord. Nobility was all the same, many giving the least convincing marriage proposals.

She was surprised when the man’s old hand reached up and grabbed her face, forcing her forward.

Tobirama gave a small movement at the overly rude gesture, but controlled himself, folding his arms. Behind the old man, Madara had gone deathly quiet. 

The Daimyo's own guards stiffened, the large group of ninja starling to look nervous. The space went quiet.

“My Lord,” Sayuriama said softly. “If you like it so, send an artist- It will last longer.” Her artful jest made him laugh, and he let go, his cool eyes narrowing.

The tension lessened.

“How diplomatic, the pretty way you speak.” His smirked widened. “Wouldn’t you make an excellent wife. What do you think boy?” The daimyo turned to mock the ever more mortified Takumi.

In shame, he stared down, only the slightest indication of his head.

It was clear the daimyo didn’t think highly of his firstborn

The air behind Hashirama and Mito had cold. Thankfully the couple did not notice. Sayuriama stood still, her eyes forcefully pointed down. She would not say anything to ruin the deal her brothers so desperately wanted. 

The old man was still examining her, making off-colored comments at her expense. 

Yes, she hated men like him.

Tobirama cool voice finally cut in.

“My Lord, if you are open for conversation, I would talk more buisness with you.” Sayuriama looked gratefully as Tobirama stepped in between them, giving her the chance to step behind his tall form as he opened his arm to lead the man away. 

The Daimyo laughed heavily, and let Tobirama direct him towards the balcony doors.

“Ha ha, and we shall. But we most certainly should meet again, should we little princess?” She was forced to nod her head demurely

She was surprised when the shaky voice of Takumi stepped in.

“May I escort the Lady Senju for refreshments?” His voice sounded weak, but Sayuriama gratefully accepted as he came forward, and weaved her arm through his. 

She didn’t even  _ look _ towards Madara.  She would not entertain a drunkard, or any man who would let her honor be so questioned.

“If you’ll excuse us.” They quickly walked inside, to the hall, and down the back stairs.  She looked out a window, noting the several shinobi on guard. She spotted Aoi, but stopped, turning to the boy. She noted his thick black hair, and though he was thin, wispy, his eyes were kind.

To her surprise, she felt overwhelming affection. He was no shinobi, and had been openly mocked...  _ but he stood up for her. _

She turned to him. “Thank you.” Takumi clenched his fists.

“No women should have to listen to that, especially not you.” She blushed at the open words, but he continued. “I’m serious. You are a proud Senju, sister of the most powerful shinobi. He is lucky your brothers desperately want this deal. If it was me, this village would have been funded the moment Lord Hashirama asked.” 

She blushed lightly. Takumi was telling the truth, and she saw how he respected her brothers, his open manner.

“I wish I had said something sooner, but I promise Lady Sayuriama- I will protect you!” His affectionate nature was refreshing, and the Senju women blushed.

“Thank you.” Her words were soft.

“Uh...” He felt like a fool again.  _ If she just wasn’t so beautiful, maybe he would have the chance to convince her _ . 

“I will do my best to protect you-” She raised an eyebrow, and he gave a laugh. “Though you seem more than capable to defending yourself”

Sayuriama suddenly felt vulnerable- she knew she could  _ like  _ this boy... 

Turning, she smiled.

“Today, my honor is saved thanks to you, Lord Takumi.” She leaned in, and gave him a soft, tender kiss on the cheek. His face once again turned the shade of a tomato.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

Sayuriama felt the glow of the conversation she and Takumi had as she and Aoi as weaved their way through crowds. It was better than thinking over the humiliation she had felt at the hands of the daimyo, at Madara.

The soft warmth of Takumi was much better than feeling  _ common _ , expandable.

As soon as she was away from the crowd, she picked up her long kimono. Aoi gave her a look, but said nothing, they didn’t stop until they reached the compound. 

Aoi returned to the streets to celebrate, said she would tell Tobirama where she left her, and Sayuriama jealously watching her go back into the crowd that had so much promise. 

The wood thudded as she took of her shoes at the door, and then ran along an empty corridor, around the compound until she got to her own rooms. Once inside her room she angrily threw off the kimono, then undid her hair. At her mirror she took a rag scrubbed her face clean of the lifht makeup, as if to remove the attention she had been eager to avoid. 

In her underclothes so looked at herself the mirror, trying to discover just why this had to happen. She, of course, maybe deserved the attention she received by encouraging Madara, but  _ why had he been drinking? _

She hated drunks.

But if she was careless encouaging Madara, she had done  _ nothing _ to deserve the great embarrassment at the hands of the fire Daimyo. He had talked to her like a doll, handled her like a prostitute. She could tell Takumi had suffered this sort of arrogant humiliation often. 

She felt pity for the boy, and a desire to comfort him. But she did not want or need the lofty title of  _ women of the Fire daimyo  _ to confirm her worth. 

Especially when the greasy man potentially saw her as his own little toy. Even as the wife of a great Lord, there would be no real power. The daimyo’s court was a world full of pointless scrambling, backstabbing and secrets. At least shinobi didn’t hide their battles.

 

She rose, her stool falling back and she didn’t bother to correct it, going over to the patched screen. She had stayed long enough to please Hashirama and Mito, though they’d wonder wonder why she didn’t bid them farewell for their trip. She felt bad, but still justified in leaving. The day that had started so well had gone to hell.

Sayuriama opened the window, looking into the darkening afternoon sky, the sunset that would be beautiful. Angrily, she threw it shut, then went to her bed, laying down. Exhaustion hit her, her eyes closed, hands behind her head.

She fell asleep quickly.

She awoke quickly, a realization coming over her. She was completely unguarded, alone.

All the Senju would be celebrating, and the servants would have been let off to be with their families and a few extra coins. 

She opened the closet, looking for an easy Kimono she could put on herself. If she were lucky, she hadn’t missed Hashirama and Mito leaving, and could sneak back in a plain kimono, nothing beside her own face to make her stick out. That would be easily remedied by the farmers hat she had with her.

After locating a kimono with prominent Senju designs in a light green she readied herself. It was a trick to put on the obi, but she managed. 

She pulled her long brown hair back, a comb to hold the front in place. No extra sparkle, no low neckline. She looked in the mirror once again, feeling better. She was  _ Senju _ , a proud sister of fierce shinobi Hashirama and Tobirama Senju, descendant of proud fighters. 

She was ready to leave when something hit her screen. She replied in turn screaming and almost tripping from the mat. She was pleased when she caught her own balance. She flew to the window surprised when saw the familiar falcon shaped outline through the screen that have been heavily reinforced with seals. 

She opened the screen, and came face to face with an extremely offended Hawk. He immediately jumped swooped her, making her duck, while screaming loudly in her ear before flying away. She looked in confusion at the temperamental beast that snubbed her for no apparent reason.

“ _ Ginko _ ! You get back here!” She exclaimed angrily after the bird. “Stop  _ ripping  _ my screen, you menace!”

“Heh.” She stopped, shifting to the man who had been standing next to the window.”

“Yelling at birds, Senju?” The authoritative voice chimed, a little mockingly. She looked up at the tree next to her window. Madara was leaned casually against the trunk, looking bored. 

“ _...” _

“This is the moment where you say something clever back, little Sayuriama.”

She flung her window shut, and was disappointed, but not surprised when he caught it.

“Heh, I suppose you do seem rather upset. But, in his defence it’s not a very strong screen is it.”

“How long have you been there?” She said flatly, folding her arms. He opened the screen, and sat on the window frame.

“Long enough.” She stepped closer to him. He no longer looked like a mess, nor smelled like alcohol. He had somehow looked washed and refreshed in the short time she was pouting in the Senju compound.  

“Is this affection or have you decided to become my person demon?” He smirked at her question. “Maybe I should have left the window open so you could watch me dress!”

“Maybe you should have.”

She stopped, angry. “How can you do this to me? Have I not been insulted enough today?” She went to push him out the window, but his hand caught it with that inhuman strength. 

That  _ infuriating _ smug smirk he wore so well.

“Always so smug, aren’t you Lord Uchiha- even when you are drunk.”

Finally, he frowned.

Satisfied, she determined to walk away with dignity. Madara’s long finger tapped against the frame.

“So you noticed.”

She didn’t answer, and was almost at the other door. He sighed, crossing his arms to step off her window sill.

“Sayuriama.” His voice was soft but she gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not in my nature to apologize. But-”

She felt fingers on the back of her kimono, stroking the fabric.

“I may have been unfair to you.” His large hand was on shoulder. “I should have defended you sooner. But it seems as if you want an excuse.”

She stiffened, ready to rage.

  
  


“My brother, my closest comrade and confidant, died two years ago today.”

His voice lowered to a deadly tone.”Your brother, Tobirama was the man to give him the blow that would end him.”  

  
  
  
  


_ Oh lord. She didn’t dare move. The world spinned, threatening to turn and she could hear the hatred he had, the fury. _

_ And he was justified. _

  
  


She made a soft sound, feeling his fingers grip her kimono.

“I can’t you give a better excuse, but it did help me avoid starting a fight.” _ He was daring her not to accept it. _

Her chest tightened, and her knees felt weak.  

“Yes, I do my best to hold not to hold a grudge, but I can’t always be as heartless as Tobirama expects me to be.”

“... Lord Mad-” He cut her off.

“I don’t need your pity either- He was a proud Uchiha Shinobi and knew the risks. He helped me unlock my true power.”

“Do you hate me then?” She said quietly. 

He turned her, and she slowly raised her eyes to his narrowed, daring black ones. He frowned at her upset features. She desperately didn’t want to cry, but as he put her head against her chest she did. 

“Don’t cry. He offered me his eyes as his last gift, as he knew I was going blind.” She clenched her teeth. 

He was so tall, a large, ungloved hand stroking her back. It was a confident embrace, one that demanded she care. 

As she looked up, his face was impassive. Uchiha. His eyes were black obsidian, the pupils barely visible. She put a hand up to move the piece of wayward hair that seemed to always fall over his right eye. His thick black lashes closed. 

“It was a worthy gift-” 

She pulled his face down, him letting her finally lead. It was a show of trust, the vulnerability thi stubborn man, who couldn’t take a joke. It was a chance she would not get again if she didn’t take it.

 

“-as I ended up able to see you.”

She kissed him. 

 


	18. Scroll 18

**Scroll 18**

 

It was raining, but Sayuriama paced the training fields.

 

She expected not see Madara for awhile after the kiss- he was stubborn man, she had come to expect a certain period for him to take before he returned.

He held her hand as they walked back through the village, both not talking, but coming to an understanding.

She was his.

His words couldn’t leave her- he was clearly greatly pained over the conflict that she was Tobirama’s sister. 

All of his actions were to keep her at a distance. She wasn’t sure how much or a couple they were.

Or if he using her for revenge. 

  
  


She had to go train to stop her mind from overthinking everything. 

So there she was, totally drenched, trying to walk up a damn tree. She focused her concentration to her feet, taking a careful step up. It was no use. The tree was slick, and it was a different story trying to figure out how to adjust Chakra to it. She fell, but grabbed a branch, using the leverage to spin, and balance on top of it. 

Above her, lightening crackled, followed by the thick booming of thunder. 

Now it definitely wasn’t safe.

 

Aoi appeared under her, dry under her paper umbrella. 

“We should go into the village,” She yelled, “If we stay out your brothers will get suspicious. I have no desire to get another lecture from Tobirama about your personal safety.” Aoi gave her a stern look.

Sayuriama nodded, carefully stepping down. There was point to risking injury.

Once down, she refused the umbrella, and both started walking back. The guards let them in without a second look, and the girls entered the growing city. Sayuriama looked at the water rushing down into the draining system Tobirama created, grateful they wouldn't be walking in knee high debri. 

They were about to turn along the stone path to the Senju compound when a ninja appeared in front of them. 

Aoi already had her kunai out before the man put up his hands, familiar face looking rather sad. Wistful. 

“Aoi,” He sounded a bit surprised, but turned. “Lady Sayuriama.” They both stopped, Aoi putting their weapons down.

“Hayo.” Aoi said, and Sayuriama’s head turned at the familiarity. “What on earth are you doing here? You’re soaked.” He was, his short dark hair creating rivulets along his handsome face. His standard dark wear was also drenched, sticking to him. 

“Lord Madara sent me to invite the Lady Senju to the Uchiha compound. He desires to speak to Lady Sayuriama.” Sayuriama flushed, feeling the dirt she was covered in. She was even wetter than Hayo, and would be a disgrace to be seen like this.

Aoi looked at Hayo like he was mad.

“Do you know what Tobirama Senju would  _ do  _ to me,” She hissed, “if I allowed that to happen?” 

Sayuriama didn’t agree, nor disagree.

Hayo’s head went down, shamed. 

“I wouldn’t insist... but...” Sayuriama heard it in his voice. He would be in serious trouble, if he already wasn’t- The Uchiha clan expected him to bring her, or there would be consequences. 

“Hayo... Could this wait?” Hayo wanted to agree with her, but she say it in his face.

“It appears that your brothers, Lady, are not in the village today.” He said, the intentions clear. If either was there, she wouldn’t dare. 

He continued.

“I don’t think the Uchiha would mind. We could find something warm for you to change.” Sayuriama sighed. Hayo was nice, but she knew he was persistent. “He’ll be less than pleased if you don’t show up.” They didn’t realize it, but Madara had been scathing to Hayo, constantly clarifying that Sayuriama Senju was not available. 

 

For a moment rain pattered on all of them

 

“We have to go.”  Sayuriama said, and Aoi made a face. “If you aren’t pleased, Aoi, then I’ll go alone. It would be rude to jilt a clan leader.” 

With that, Aoi was forced to follow Sayuriama.

They had to cross the entire town, and Aoi’s paper umbrella crumpled under the heavy rain. 

The entrance to the Uchiha compound was larger than the Senju, as most of it’s residents had homes built inside, compared to the Senju who were spreading across the village. At the gate stood an Uchiha guard, stately and slim. His hair was spiky and he had a face guard on, looking wonderfully dry under a veranda.

“Hikaku.” He said flatly.

“Hayo, you’re late. Lord Madara is in his study.” Hayo sighed, leading the cold wet trio into the compound and the guard stood to the side. Red eyes lingered on the shivering Senju princess, not missing a move.

Though she didn’t see it, the Uchiha clan was already watching Sayuriama.  

While Hashirama was a plant-o-phile, and the Senju gardens full of strange trees, bonsai,and the compound made of gleaming wood, the apartment in interesting shapes. 

The Uchiha had built an elegant traditional structure, full of foliage native to the Land of Fire. With deeply sloping roofs, tall wooden window frames and perfectly cut stone paths it was as strange thing to view. Hayo led them past several orderly homes, lights coming from the paper covered windows. There were few decorations beside the Uchiha symbols, placed often. They passed very few Uchiha, most who nodded at them, casually. Sayuriama noted how well taken care off the place, the order that must preside at all times.

It was like him.

Hayo led them to a large building, under the eaves, to a door. There, inside there were a multitude of dark haired women most very pretty. They looked up, dark eyes widening in surprise at the Senju guests.

“Lady Sayuriama needs new fresh clothes.” Hayo said briefly. One of the older ladies rose quickly, and suddenly Sayuriama was surrounded by curious Uchiha eyes. “We’re pleased to have you.” Then, she pulled her into the next room. Aoi followed, and then most of the Uchiha women went in pursuit. Hayo noticed a few, fierce kunoichi, sneer, leaving the building, but the majority followed. They looked at him darkly, but he stared back, the promise of a threat. 

Sayuriama was feeling so very shy, Surrounded by these Uchiha women, women who had surrounded Madara, seen him grow. Some of these Uchiha women who  _ loved  _ him. Had seen him first, had likely tried to whoo him. 

She didn’t expect the kindness.

“Ah! Lady Sayuriama! You are beautiful!” Her eyes widens at the lovely dark Uchiha women who had all started excitedly talking to her.

“What?:

“I’m so jealous of your hair!”

“You simply have to tell us-” She blinked.

“Ah?” Many eyes narrowed in on her. It would be an understatement to say they were curious about Lady Sayuriama.

Despite being Senju, and famed as a beauty, she was also the  _ only women, much less Senju,  _ that had ever been personally invited by Madara to come into the Uchiha clan. He had taken her into The clan respected their leader, and all supported the treaty with the Senju clan- But the irony of it was too great! Madara Uchiha in love the Hashirama Senju’s sister?

They would not be left in the dark.

“How on earth did you  _ do  _ it?” Sayuriama opened her mouth giving a little squeak as the surprisingly women began to undress her. Aoi rolled her eyes as the Uchiha women started removing her clothes, like a doll. Sayuriama flushed when it was down to her underclothes, her shy attitude. The women obliged, beginning to search for  _ things  _ to enhance this lovely visitor. Sayuriama marvelled as they began to pull out kimono, fighting over which would match her skin tone, or would make her eyes and lips stand out. 

 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow-”

“You know,” They had all looked kind of similar, but she was beginning to see subtle differences. The one that spoke was small, a certain tilt to her lips. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell any of the boys-”

A snarky looking one with furrows under her eyes cut it. “How did you catch his eyes?”

“Ya, how did you meet?”

“Lord Madara?”

“He’s not a bad guy, just  _ scary  _ at tim-”

“Kimko, don’t talk about the clan leader like that!” Another women began to argue- An older Uchiha kindly offered a simple kimono to Aoi, but she shook her head. She would not be a part of this. 

 

Sayuriama suddenly realized that the Uchiha women were  _ curious about her relationship to  _ Madara _.  _ She didn’t sense any fear- but a deep respect that the women held for him.

There women were not what she thought... they were kind. Kinder than many of the village women had been when she would first meet them- she often had to earn their trust. But these women were being so accepting?

“Lord Madara can be so  _ strict. Downright terrifying in battle.”  _

“ _ But the way he treats you, he had never been like this!” _

“Very handsome, but he has always been rather cold, untouchable!”

“It’s not obvious, but my husband saw you holding hands at the festival-  _ I’ve never seen Lord Uchiha look so casual!” _

“No offense, but I would have never guessed a Senju. While It’s seems Lord Hashirama and Madara had always been close...” It wasn’t a judgement, but a frank fact.

_ She flushed at the attention. _

It was a talent the well-bred Uchiha women had to become friends easily- charm that she was usually the only one to possess. She was sat down, towelled off, and admired. A few less demure Uchiha turned to her, and began putting a touch of makeup on her face. 

_ Not that you need any, they assured her. She did seem rather pale- due to the rain? _

When an appropriate kimono was agreed on between the  _ very  _ enthusiastic Uchiha women, she was fitted up.

Then, they placed her in front of a mirror. A few of them sighed.

Yes, she did look very nice. But surrounded by such similar features, she stood out, like a poppy among daisies.

Could she fit in the perfect world Madara had created?

 

The pristine white kimono was gorgeous, detailed with Uchiha fans sewn in white, the brilliant obi in a dark red-grey. It wasn’t the most appropriate thing for an unwed Senju girl to wear, but she could change after this impromptu meeting. She nodded, forcing a smile at the Uchiha women who had decided to try and figure her out. 

A bit later, she and a very irritated, damp, Aoi were ushered down more clean straight halls, until they stood before a thick wooden door, heavily engraved with Uchiha symbols, and of non traditional hardwood. 

Behind it, she heard familiar voices.

Her heart started beating hard, and the Uchiha women that had accompanied her slipped away, leaving her and Aoi alone before this terrifying door. Aoi, tired of this formality, put her hand up to knock, but  _ his  _ voice cut through.

“Enter.”

Aoi turned to Sayuriama, but received nothing in return. Sayuriama was nervous. The kunoichi opened the door, boldly stepping inside, leaving her in the cool hallway, the sound of rain soft behind the walls. 

For some reason, she could talk to him if it was on the training field, but here it was different.

Aoi turned, motioning her, and she came in. 

She paled even more.

Several distinct Uchiha clan members were inside the room, around a table. Their faces were serious, all sharing similar features with the women she had already met, Inky eyes and ash hair. Lord Madara wasn’t the youngest, but most of the men looked much older than he. There was distinct lack of middle age men, and Sayuriama realized this was likely because most had died before the treaty, a victim of a Senju sword. 

She felt much smaller, defenseless. 

At the top of the table was Madara, long legs crossed on the simple mat under him, elbow resting on the. He smiled, and Aoi felt a cold terror in her spine. Aoi was also on edge, years of training kicking in. This was one her more terrible nightmares- surrounded by the Uchihas, and no way fight out.

Both women bowed, which was echoed by the nods from the clan members. On of the few younger men stood, his hair tied back into a ponytail. He had a high collared, purple shirt with a chain draping his right shoulder. 

“Forgive us, Lady Senju, we didn’t mean to startle you,” He held his hand out for them to sit at the two cushions placed at the table. “I am Setsuna Uchiha, an advisor of Lord Madara, and over organization and discipline inside clan. It was I, along with the Uchiha seniors, who invited you.” 

“I am flattered by your invitation.” Her voice was smooth- the well trained voice she used to show confident she didn’t feel.

She saw Madara smirk, as he was aware how much trouble he was causing them. Especially Aoi, if Tobirama found out.

He seemed untouchable behind his high dark collar.

Sayuriama couldn’t read the faces of any of the Uchiha, but felt distinctly uncomfortable at how solemn all but Madara seemed. Hikaku, the guard that had met them earlier, in the back nodded pleasantly. 

“Yes. But it has been requested by Lord Madara that we  _ assess  _ your Ladyship's capabilities for being a potential mistress of the Uchiha clan.” Setsuna said all to politely. Sayuriama could  _ feel  _ the red of her cheeks, and Aoi stood.

“This is a matter that should be discussed with Lord Hash-” Aoi started, but was cut of by Sayuriama raised her hand. 

“If you’ll wait outside, please.” Her voice never quivered, never showed the fear she was feeling. But the Uchiha has never been anything but noble here, and  _ she am capable of making my own decisions _ . 

Aoi stood stoic, looking betrayed and angry, but she bowed quickly and left, slamming the door behind her.

Sayuriama felt a twinge of betrayal.  _ Forgive me Aoi. _

Now, she was even more alone, and she thought, at the mercy of men who could slit her throat in less then a second; And would have done so for most of her life. She performed this great show of trust to placate the clans curiosity, the test that Madara had set up. He wanted to see her courage, her ability to handle herself when she was at a disadvantage.

She raised her head proudly.

The table looked a bit less grave, as if she had greatly placated them already. Setsuna actually smiled, making her lower her guard just a bit. 

Madara spoke, all eyes turning his way. 

“Heh. No one can say Lady Senju isn’t capable of making her own decisions,” She flushed as he continued, “So let’s  _ not _ waste her time.” 

The clan seniors now realized that this was the declaration of his intentions. This women was under  _ his _ protection, and her remarks valid by his command.

Madara gazed at her warmly and she flushed with warmth.

Setsuna nodded, tilting his head as if he was fascinated by the reaction. “As tradition in the Uchiha clan, for potential  _ candidates _ as mistress of the clan, it’s important you be worthy; knowledge of how a clan works, negotiating with merchants. Just common things that should not be too invasive of her ladyship. Knowledge of lands, clans and jutsu prowess as a wife and mother to the clan,” She had to keep her gaze on him, because she  _ knew if she looked at him  _ she wouldn’t stop going red.

She nodded when he paused. She could do that.

“Excellent.  “Also some personal questions, concerning health, capability of reproduction and so on.” Now she did go red.

She sat straight, as if Mito was still teaching her etiquette. 

“How would you have me prove my worth?” She noticed some of the older men, all with similar dark eyes, were giving her looks of either being impressed or thoughtful.

Not one betrayed their true feelings, she noted. 

“We ask you,” Setsuna smiled, nodding to the other men, “Then we decide as a group if you are fit.”

“Okay.” She said, heart loud in her ears.

Then, all the men’s eyes went red, and she went pale again.

Setsuna looked to her, his own eyes spinning. “Ah yes. The sharingan is an excellent lie detector.”

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Aoi waited, ten minutes before she gained enough courage to finally go. She didn’t fear the Uchiha’s decision as she much as feared Tobirama’s reaction if  _ he found out another way _ . She already was in deep shit, as this would get out.

She rushed back to the Senju compound, running over the slick rooftops. It was short, but dangerous.

She wasn’t in luck, as she spotted Tobirama almost immediately, entering at the opposite end of the compound. Hashirama was still away on his honeymoon, and Tobirama looked tired, having just finished a day visit to an outer villages. 

Aoi flipped down, careful not to splash him.

Her turned to her, and his face was  _ ice _ . 

Slowly, he reached to the ground. It took him a minute, as the ground was soft, but he turned up to her, cold fury

“ _ Uchiha _ .” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama didn’t even  _ try  _ to guess how she did. 

But as she left, then was escorted to the gate by the clan woman, she figured she probably failed. 

When she discovered Aoi had left, she had asked for her clothes back, trying to leave before Tobirama caught her in the compound. The woman gladly also provided a kimono to cover her training gear, since it became distinctly cooler outside. The rain wasn’t as hard, but it was still enough to need an umbrella as well. 

As she approached the guards, she considered running back and hiding. 

_ Shit _

The women walking with her got nervous as they saw a  _ furious _ Tobirama Senju, wet and yelling at the gate. A brave Uchiha guard was standing before him, trying to reason with him. 

As soon as he sensed her he stopped, turning to face her.

She put her head down, ashamed, and went forward to accept her punishment. She handed the umbrella back to a worried looking women, not wanting it to be crushed by her  _ very  _ angry brother. 

“ _ Sayuriama _ .” He said in a cool voice. He’d save the lecture for later, but his voice was ice cold. 

She didn’t answer.

“Lord Tobirama, how pleasant to find you here.” Madara drawled from behind her. “I heard you have been harassing my guards.”

Sayuriama turned sharply like the other women- he had appeared out of the air, his hand on her shoulder. The started pouring again, and they were getting obscenely wet.

If there had been one thing that could have made this worse, the appearance of Madara was it. She may have been able to feign this as a visit to one of the Uchiha women before. 

“ _ Uchiha.” _ Tobirama sounded distinctly less the pleasant, glaring at the Uchiha who had placed a hand on her wet shoulder. “ _ How dare you _ .”

She tentatively stepped forward, sadly walking out of Madara’s grasp to walk to her brother who grabbed her wrist angrily. 

She didn’t see Madara’s narrowing eyes.

Once at his side, his arm came around her, an iron grip. She glanced  back at the Uchiha clan leader, whose eyes had turned sharp at the unsaid accusation. He dismissed with guards, and women, with a hand motion, and they faded, watching from a distance. 

“Tobirama- I just wanted to meet some Uchiha friends.” Tobirama’s unchanging stance told her he didn’t believe a word of what she was saying. Madara then smirked, putting a strong hand on his waist. 

“You don’t need protect me,  _ little Sayuriama.  _ I am more than capable of handling-” Madara reached out his palm, then smashed it against his other, “this Senju brat.” 

She had to put her hand on Tobirama chest. He had gone very still, and even in his kimono his heartbeat felt faint. His eyes looked deadly, and Sayuriama couldn’t remember ever seeing him so infuriated. 

Her brother looked to her, and she was reminded that Tobirama had  _ killed  _ Madara Uchiha’s younger brother- this would be terrible if she couldn’t get him to leave.

 

“Tobirama, don’t.  _ Please. _ ” 

 

The younger Senju turned, his eyes locked with Madara’s Sharingan.

 

“Stay away from  _ my sister _ Uchiha  **_scum_ ** _. _ ”

 

Madara sneered, bracing his legs. “You have no power to make me do such,  _ Senju _ . Heh.”

 

“I had enough  _ power  _ to kill your brother.” 

  
  


An ugly feeling filled her, and she knew Tobirama had gone  _ too _ far. 

 

Even the fierce rain seemed to go silent.

 

Madara stepped forward, hair covering his face before he turned up, Mangekyo Sharingan gleaming. 

“Why don’t you show all that latent power.” He said with a terrible, dark look, cracking his fists. 

Tobirama sneered, raising a hand. In seconds, a giant Gunbai appeared in Madara’s hand. Tobirama let her go, pushing her back, behind him, so his hands could be free.

 

Sayuriama felt fear, flashbacks of metal on flesh. The furious face of Kakazu appeared before her, then the feeling of utter fear and helpless.

 

Caught between these two men  _ who killed _ , she felt a sudden urge to fall to the ground, to vomit out the bile that was building in her. She needed to scream to stop this madness. 

The braced to battle, rain pelting their faces.

 

She did the only thing she could think to do. 

  
  


She burst into tears. 

  
  


Both men immediately stopped immediately. Tobirama turned, his face still hard, but he put a comforting arm around her. Madara folded his arms, face blank, eyes onyx again, coolly looking on at the soft action. Tobirama glared, but turned. He pushed the girl through the gate, leaving the Uchiha leader to stare after them

 

“Get back to work.” He finally said, and the eyes of his clan dispersed, leaving him.

The sound of the crying girl faded as the rain fell harder. 

 

He didn’t move for ten minutes, hand clenched tightly around his fan, letting his desire to end Tobirama Senju slightly abate.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Hashirama and Mito finally returned the following week. They were holding hands as they passed through the gate, and he was in an excellent mood, bolstered by the wonderful weather.

This peace was to end.

Once inside the gates he was intercepted, his previously nice day ending abruptly

Madara looked aloof and cool, his footsteps silent as he came forward to meet the returning shinobi. On the other hand, Hashirama didn’t think he had ever seen his brother so openly upset. He was practically destroying the road. 

Hashirama laughed awkwardly.

Mito turned to her husband, assessed the situation, then walked off to the compound, knowing not to get involved. Hashirama looked in despair as he wife left him! How could she! The betrayal was deep. He looking in longing for at the refuge the Senju compound offered.

Too late to run. Tobirama had already grabbed his shoulder, giving a fearsome look to the Uchiha, that was returned by Madara, no less poisionous. 

“Such a welcome!”

Both men sneered. 

Tobirama said nothing, just turning to glare at Madara who had stopped a few paces away.

“What’s this?” Hashirama questioned, incredibly confused.  _ What had been going on?   _ He looked on as the Uchiha gazed condescendingly at Tobirama. Those two would never get along, and he sighed, depressed again. 

“Hashirama.” The Uchiha greeted him coldly. 

“What’s going on?” Hashirama said, wishing desperately avoid this situation with all of his heart.

“I would speak to you, privately.” Madara interjected. Tobirama stepped forward.

“I  _ said  _ no, Uchiha.” 

“This is not your decision  _ boy.”  _ Madara drawled arrogantly. Hashirama put an innocent finger up, but Tobirama cut in.

“You wish favors and the permissions of the Senju, yet you disregard all I say!” The Uchiha rolled his eyes.

“You are  _ not _ the head of the Senju clan, nor would I ask  _ you _ anything. Such delusions.”

Hashirama was utterly baffled. 

“What on earth is going on?” He practically had to separate the two. Tobirama turned to him, then looked around. They had gathered a crowd. 

“I think it’s better if we make this more private.” Madara interjected. He looked, and the crowds that had gathered.

Hashirama was dragged to the Hokage building. They entered, quietly walking to the tall empty room at the top. The three stood there in a triangle.

Once there, Tobirama began, hands in a position as if he would attack The Uchiha. 

“This Uchiha scum has been attempting to  _ seduce _ Sayuriama.”

“Tobirama.” Hashirama frowned at the crass manner he had addressed the Uchiha man. Tobirama could be exceedingly difficult. But Hashirama knew as well as the Uchiha that the man wasn’t acting cool for Tobirama. 

“What has caused this?”

“With...  _ all due respect _ , Hashirama, all I have done was do what many others have done with no conflict. It may be the fact the sentiments are  _ reciprocated _ to an Uchiha that bothers Lord Tobirama.” Madara said this with such disdain is was a miracle Tobirama didn’t rush him.

Between a rock and hard place. Hashirama, for the first time, wondered how he could possibly solve this problem.

Hashirama was no fool, despite his good humor. If Madara portrayed the angry stoic leader, cool and uncaring, his feelings ran deep. He knew that his sister made the best of men consider crime. Hashirama had been secretly hoping something would happen to soften the Uchiha, but he hadn’t expected his angle.  

“Tobirama.” The brother turned, knowing that Hashirama was going to say something he didn’t agree with. “I wish to speak to Madara alone.” 

Tobirama turned coldly and then he was gone. Hashirama sighed, knowing would face the brunt of his anger later and it would be less than pleasant.

Now alone with the Uchiha, he pointed to the cushions, taking a seat, exhausted already. Madara followed, calm as the eye of the storm. 

“Tobirama means no harm.”

“Surely.” His tone was ice.

“He is extremely protective over Sayuriama.”

“Hashirama, if you are done trying to convince me of Tobirama’s finer points, let’s stop this pointless banter.” Hashirama sighed, knowing Madara feeling impatient. If this continued, it potentially could get ugly and have serious consequences.

“Madara, what exactly do you want of me?” 

Madara narrowed his eyes, legs crossed, arms folded. 

“Want?” A condescending look was shot his way. “I don’t and will never  _ want _ permission.” Hashirama sighed as Madara sneered. “I’m  _ informing  _ you, as is required, that I am offering marriage to your younger sister.” The Uchiha looked coldly, daring him.

Hashirama raised hand hand behind his head. He was not a total idiot, no matter how silly he acted. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open dramatically. 

“Eh. You wish to marry Sayuriama?” He echoed. There was silence as Hashirama processed this, mouth ajar. Before, he thought that this mostly likely about a power struggle Madara was playing to cause minor discord in the Senju. Or Sayuriama had been bothering the Uchiha Lord. No, this was much worse. “Madara...”

“Your rejection would not stop me. Nor her, promise.”

“I am aware of that I have no control over you, but  _ Madara _ . My sister is admirable but I had the impression you weren’t interested.” 

His sister was good, silly, kind and loving, things that  _ most _ men were seeking. But the Uchiha clan was perceived as cold, did not show emotion easily, and seemed strict. As a clan mistress she seemed be an unethical choice for the man who embodied authoritarian control. 

He knew Madara felt deeply, but  _ what exactly was he doing. _

“Hashirama. After what I have sacrificed- The Uchiha’s money, our  _ pride _ , it’s members,  _ my own brother- yet  _ you still find me lacking in sincerity? I’m not worthy enough for your sister _ because I am an Uchiha? _ ”

Hashirama shook his head, but Madara continued, sneer in full force.

“ _ Your brother _ sees us as Uchiha  _ scum.  _ His men see it, and they act accordingly.  _ My _ men see it, and are forced to stay quiet, in fear of retaliation.” Hashirama knew how some people talked about the Uchiha. Madara was making this a matter of what had always kept their clans apart; prejudice. 

Madara certainly knew where to hit his weaknesses. Between reservation of his sister choice of husband, and his desire for the village to thrive, Madara would corner him.

Hashirama frowned at the misgivings he felt.

“The village just needs more time-” 

“Time? No, Hashirama, there needs to be a precedent for the village to follow.  _ Your brother needs to be taught his place. _ The clans will see it as the ultimate symbol of unity.”

Hashirama’s face was serious, mind racing. Was he right? Did he dare entrust his temperamental friend, his rival, to take care of the sister he had covenanted to protect? He sighed.

“I can not simply promise my sister away. I am her protector, and hold responsibility for her happiness.” 

“If she agrees, will you concede without argument,  _ hold Tobirama to the same expectation _ ?” 

There is was. The final ultimatum. Say no, and the entire Uchiha clan would hear how he, the Senju leader didn’t think Madara- their beloved leader, was worthy. There would grow a distrust that he  _ would not be able to breach. _ The Uchiha would not forget. 

Madara had known this all along, Hashirama mused as he looked at the tall man, a smirk on his lips. He had been playing a long game, one that Hashirama had been foolish enough not to pay attention too, to cut off at the beginning. 

_ But, Madara, why? _

“I would be happy to accept, as long as she does.” He gave a smile that didn’t reach into soul, but was surprised at the small one that Madara had. The real smile he rarely revealed.

“You were the first to cross the river, Hashirama. I look forward to beating you one day.”

Hashirama raised his eyebrows, shocked.

Madara stood, walking out of the room. He paused at the door, a wicked smirk on his lips, dark eyes full of humor. “I care for her- I won’t say that I’m not envious that she loves and trusts you so dearly. I look forward to stealing that from you.” 

Apprehension and confusion filled Hashirama. He sighed as Madara walked out, wondering how his sister's infatuation could have possibly gotten more complicated than managing a village.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

It was still morning when the self proclaimed town messenger, overhearing from his neighbor, who heard it from a Senju servant, who heard it from the mouth of Tobirama Senju, who had been yelling  _ very  _ loudly in the Senju compound earlier that morning. 

The messenger had immediately went to the large tree in the center of the town, ready to make some change.

“SENJU-UCHIHA MARRIAGE!” His cry made the crowds turn. He yelled it again for good measure. An old woman waved him over, tossing a coin to him.

“Gimme the dirt kid.” He leaned in, telling her. Her eyes went wide and she cackled.

“Madara Uchiha?” The crowds around her drew in. More coins poured into the kids pockets. Yes indeed, this was a good day for the self proclaimed  _ White Fang.  _ The scrappy white haired boy began to divulge information, using the best dramatic effect he could muster. 

“Yes, Madara Uchiha- but not only will he  _ marry _ just a senju, no. He’s going to marry the great beauty of the Senju!”

“Princess Sayurimaru?” The superstitious woman exclaimed. 

“No!” Most of the men cried in despair.

“Well did you see her at the wedding? She was in Uchiha colors!” One muttered conspiratorially.

“I saw her talk to Madara once, a few months ago-”

“No, I heard Madara left because he found her annoying!”

“Did you hear about that spat at the Uchiha compound?”

“What really?”

“You sure, Hatake?” The kid nodded. The villagers started talking among themselves, and the boy was off again. 

The village once again brewing another round of rumours. 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama was reclining against a tree in the private family garden section the compound, and apple in her hand, freshly picked. The the accusations of both men carrying centuries of hatred repeated on loop. It seemed like everything was a battle between Uchiha and Senju when it came to Tobirama and Madara.

_ Stupid men. _ She clenched the apple. 

She didn’t know if Tobirama would forgive her, or if he would continue to ignore her, telling her that  _ he could not trust her _ .

She looked at the easily bruised fruit, then threw it will all her force into the pond. She was watching the last ripples when she heard footsteps approaching. She relaxed when she saw a very red faced Tsunada approach, afraid of another meeting with Tobirama. The older women stood next to the tree, looking down at the girl.

“Why are you so gloomy, Tsunada?” 

“Why don’t  _ you _ look more concerned?” 

Sayuriama sat up, brow raised.

“Concerned?” She laughed. “What are you talking about?”

Tsunada grabbed her hand, pulling her up.“I heard it in the town today.”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sayuriama shrugged, rolling down the sleeves to the simple kimono she had pined up. 

 

“It’s going around Madara Uchiha is getting married.” Sayuriama raised an eyebrow, sitting up straight. Jealousy shot through her.

“ _ What _ ?”

Tsunada glared at her. “To  _ you- _ ”

The change in her feelings was so abrupt that Sayuriama started giggling, only to be hit on her head.

“Ow! Tsunada!”

“This is not funny! Do you know who started this?”

“I have no idea!” She said, raising her hands. “Why are you taking this so seriously?” 

“Don’t try and play coy brat. Anyone who knows anything about birds could recognize that falcon that brings you letters.” Sayuriama shrugged. “And that incident the other week at the Uchiha compound didn’t do you any favors.”

“We’re not engaged, that I know.” She grinned a bit mockingly. “Ah, Tsunada, would you be sad if I left you?” 

Tsunada hit her again on her head, a snort as her reply. As they both walked back 

Sayuriama saw Hashirama walking towards her, with purpose. He looked tired and he had not been himself since he had returned a week ago, but she had avoided him, not wishing to get scolded by both her brothers. 

But he didn’t look angry. He motioned for her to walk with him, and Tsunada left them.

Sayuriama turned her eyes to try and discover  _ just what  _ Hashirama wanted. He had been endlessly busy, the city council had been in talks with the Daimyo. They had  _ almost _ come upon a deal, but the greasy Daimyo had had taken sick at the last moment.

She found herself many times accompanying Tobirama, one who refused to trust her, to these talks. It was a passive aggressive punishment in the way Tobirama was so good at. She had endured many comments at the Daimyo’s mercy, poor Takumi rarely in good enough health to attend.  

He had come less, since the rumour had started.

Sayuriama gave a thin smile.

Madara Uchiha never decided something so important so quickly, and more, she didn’t even know her own feelings completely. If there really was another women, what would she do?

She’d certainly not be happy. Not after everything- The emotional torment would end her. There would be nothing but ashes in her, that not even the Will of Fire could reignite. 

He led her into his personal garden, intent of privacy. There was nothing she could do but wait.

It was minutes before he began. 

“Since I’ve returned, I’ve had one of the strangest weeks of my life.” She looked up as he spoke. 

He wasn’t staring at her, but had his left hand out, touching a blossom on a tree. The other came around her shoulder, and Sayuriama blinked at the affection she had not been expecting.

“Hashirama -” His look stopped her.

“I’ve been approached by two men, asking the same request of me.” He turned to her, picking the blossom of the tree to placing it in her dark hair, similar to his own.

“They both demanded I give my permission for your hand in marriage.” Sayuriama’s eyes widened. 

“Madara Uchiha.” She said.

Hashirama nodded, turning to her. 

Her heart fluttered, then plunged remembering Tobirama’s furious anger. When he brought her to the compound, he had sent her to her room. He hadn’t talked to her for several days, made her stay inside, and she hadb’t even been able to send messages. It had been awful, treated as a bad child.  

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors. But between you and I, it was, and will never be easy to mediate between Tobirama and Madara.” She waited for Hashirama to express how he felt. He was the one who made the decisions. If he had been angry, it would have been infinitely scarier.

“Yes, I know. Madara told me Tobirama killed his brother.” Hashirama looked surprised.

“Izuna.” She blinked.

“What?”

“His brother’s name was Izuna. He was a wonderful shinobi, and you would have gotten on. Just as you have with Madara. ” It was her turn to give him a confused look.

“I’m not a fool Sayuriama. I’ve known that you have been communicating with him, and that he has come here.” She flushed red. “ As long as he has respected your boundaries, I’ve refrained from interfering-” Suddenly he had a large teardrop on his head. “Besides, any fool could tell that was Madara’s bird.” She gave an awkward laugh, but then went serious. 

“Hashirama, what would you have me do?” He frowned.

“You deserve the chance for romance, as much as anyone else. We can’t keep you on a leash, even if we adore you. You are no longer a girl that we have to protect.”

She felt warm, at him saying it, a security from this admission. He smiled, seeing her so happy. 

“I believe that Madara has finally been opening his heart to the village. You’re a special women.” She flushed from the compliment but was still curious.

“You said there was another request.” Hashirama laughed.

“Yes. The Daimyo requested you marry his son ... or himself.” Sayuriama made a face, making Hashirama grin. “But I didn’t really entertain that one.”

“I hope not. How  _ dare _ he.” Hashirama shrugged.

“You have no obligation to either of these men- any man. I will support your decisions from here on out, as will Tobirama. You should have a choice if you desire.” Hashirama looked like he wanted to end the conversation that made him feel so awkward. 

“If I say no, what will be the consequences?” Hashirama looked at her, surprised. 

“That shouldn’t be part of your decision.”

“It will affect us all. If I marry Madara, Tobirama will be furious, and might not talk to me ever again. But- If I outright reject both, the Daimyo will be angry and he might go back on the deal.” Hashirama wondered how he underestimated her perceptive nature.

“He might, but he’s already made several promises.” She look down. “And Tobirama would accept the inevitable. He can’t expect to keep up such an attitude. Times are changing and it would him good to understand that.”

She looked to her eldest brother. He knew her hesitancies, and accepted that they were valid. But he would support and back her-  _ he trusted her. _

He supported her and Madara. Hashirama wouldn’t say it, but she could see his hopes, how well this would suit the village.

And there would be no more suitors after Madara. No one would ever accept, he wouldn’t ask again.

“Then inform Madara I accept his offer.”

Hashirama closed his eyes. 

He feared what this would bring, but he would be happy as she was.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

The formal announcement went out the next day. 

Madara was at his desk in his Uchiha residence, going over some financial papers when the door flew open. He sat back as Tobirama entering, a large scroll under his arm. He looked calm.

But the way Tobirama threw the scroll at his face assured Madara that he had gotten under his skin. 

He caught it easily, opening the container to roll out the contents on his desk. A marriage scroll, just as he expected.

“The Senju elders have accepted the proposal, and with ... my sister's approval they accept your proposal.” Madara could tell, behind that demeanor, Tobirama wished to be on the battlefield again. Madara took the paper, then turning to the melted wax he had on his desk, prepared for this purpose, marked the paper with the Uchiha seal, a crisp signature underneath. 

As he looked at it, a noted the date was quick- a month. 

Not quick enough.  

“Then we have a deal.” He said, raising a brow, dismissing the white haired Senju.

Tobirama sneered. “This contract is only valid as long as Sayuriama continues to agree. If she decides otherwise-”

“Now now, Tobirama. Have more faith in this darling sister of yours,  _ after all, we need to learn to get along _ .” 

Tobirama’s hand slammed down on his desk. “When Hashirama becomes Hokage,  _ you will be put in your place.” _

Madara didn’t bother looking up, but raised a hand to the door.

“ _ If.  _ Now if you could show yourself out. _ ” _

Tobirama walked out, not bothering to say anything more. Madara smirked, turning to the scroll to examine it better.


	19. Scroll 19

**Scroll 19**

 

After agreeing to the wedding, Sayuriama thought she’d feel liberated, and excited. 

Instead, there was a constant undercurrent of fear.

The afternoon after the formal announcement was made an old lady had come up to her.

“ _ Traitor _ .” She hissed, spitting at her as Aoi jumped in between them, warning off the crone. She learned a lesson-  _ people were choosing sides.  _

Madara had made any attempt to communicate since Hashirama had told her. She was too nervous, too insecure, to chance one. Not even Ginko had not come back.

_ What had she done? _

This man who she still hardly knew. What possessed her to promise herself to him? What sort power did he hold over her to make her unable to imagine a future without him?

 

She and Aoi had gone straight home, and Sayuriama spent the next hour crying on Mito’s kimono clad knees. The said woman sighed, placing her teacup on the small table before her. 

She had tried to warn her.

“Think about it, Sayuriama. You have  _ chosen _ to marry into a clan that’s traditionally the blood enemy of everything you stand for. The Uchiha have killed your family, and your family has killed theirs. Some people will see the progress of what you are doing, but many still hold grudges. Even if they don’t care about the Senju or the Uchiha, it makes them angry to think forgiveness and love is the answer. There are some in both clans who are angry, though they can do nothing against the clan leaders. They will take it out on you.” 

“This isn-”

“This  _ is _ about them, about this village. This is the type of example that will begin a precedent. Now, couples who have been afraid of going against their clan will point to your example. ”

She looked to the red haired women, and Mito could see the fear in her eyes. Now that it was done, Sayuriama was finally understanding what she had done. 

“Mito, what do I have to do to make this better?”

“Bear with them. People are fickle.”

“Will they ever accept me?” Mito sighed.

“They will respect you as Madara’s wife. Very few would dare go against shim. ” Sayuriama was finally starting to think it through- She was to become a clan mistress a force that would be forced to constantly navigate between Senju and Uchiha.  She was still too young to hold that, Mito thought. 

“Madara will expect much from you.” Madara had been extraordinarily patient.  _ Yes, a remarkable feat for him _ .

“What do you mean?” After hearing the dear in her voice, Mito decided it was time to change the subject. There would be no point to make Sayuriama have a break down.

“Sayuriama, have you heard the decision on the Hokage?” The girl perked up. 

“Did they decide?”

“Not yet. They need to count the clans votes. At the end of this week I believe.” Mito looked over to the window, the rich lush grass flowing beyond. Soon, the summer would end.

“....” Sayuriama frowned. 

“It’s going to make a big difference depending on who it is.”

“Hashirama and Madara, I assume?”

“Yes.” Sayuriama frowned, feeling the weight pile on her shoulders. 

“I want you to reconsider the marriage.” Sayuriama sat up as Mito got to her feet, to stretch.  

“...Mito, Tobirama had already been difficult-”

“This is not due to my pride, as it is with Tobirama. You need to consider  _ what Madara is inside. What you have inside.”  _ Sayuriama didn’t notice her hand go to her stomach.

“We don’t know how that knowledge would affect Madara once he discovers it. Even if Madara is a changed man, that beast could ruin everything.” Sayuriama narrowed her eyes at the clear accusation. 

“I am aware that as a  _ jinchuriki,”  _ Mito’s eyes widened at the venom which the girl spoke, “I am entitled to be feared and hated. I did not think you felt so, Mito.” 

Her voice was so low Mito almost didn’t hear the end.

“Don’t be smart. It is not you that is to be feared.”

“The nine-tails is not a monster.” Mito sighed, and Sayuriama got up, clear that she was upset. 

“Sayuriama, please, I want to keep you safe.”

“And you think Madara Uchiha is incapable of that. That he would use me to destroy everything.” Her hands were out, and to Mito’s surprise, she saw the unruly anger of the nine-tails rise in her. “You don’t trust him at all.” 

Mito rose slowly, softly, patting Sayuriama’s tense back. Immediately she calmed as the seal Mito had silently formed filled her.

How could this be? There was no way the Nine-tails could influence her. Mito narrowed her eyes as Sayuriama sat down.

 

“I know you care, but please,  _ don’t _ do this to me.”

 

“Forgive me.”

They both sat in silence for awhile, tea cups getting cold.

 

“You can be ass sometimes.” Sayuriama said, taking a sip of cold tea and breaking the tension.

 

“Because you’re dumb.”

 

“Mito, Shut up!” Mito laughed at her sister-in-law’s temper, and pushed her down into the cushions beneath them. Soon both were laughing.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

  
  


Later, at the training ground, Sayuriama sitting on the ground, a small leaf in her hands. She fiddled with it, waiting for Aoi to come back from the errand she had gone to run.

She was resigned to leave, still feeling conflicted, when a shadow came over her.

  
  


“You’re upset.” She looked up quickly, Madara put a hand on his hip, frowning. His eyes were too intense- devouring. She couldn’t hold his gaze.

“Madara...” He sat down next to her, and grabbed her hand. He raised it to his lips, making her feel dizzy, cheeks pleasantly warm. His brows furrowed at her face. “I am fine.” His long mane rippled over her, blocking her in. Emotions flashed across her face at his crisp voice. So confident, so sure. This was a man who would take on the world.

He was tall, so devastatingly handsome, his look brooked no reserve.

“I’m not such an insensitive man to not know when my woman is upset.” Now she was definitely red.

This man whose voice inspired a clan from the brink of extinction to rally- this man who held the dreams of even her brother in his palm. He had the power to destroy it all. Would he, if he knew?

She sighed.

“... your woman?” She said ironically. It was quiet, as if to want him to confirm it aloud to herself. 

He stood, bringing her with him, slanting his eyes to her, frowning at the downcast eyes- those dangerous eyes that he adored. “Ignore those rumors. I want to teach you something.”

_ How could he be so perceptive? _

  
  


_ Why did he need for her to those words? _

She stood, and he linked their hands, his long sleeves brushing against her bare forearms.

_ This man she would die for. _

 

A little later was doing her best not to move. The water wasn’t deep enough to drown her, but it was enough to make her feel uneasy.

Madara was looking more than amused at her situation. Focusing chakra to his feet had been something so natural that he could to it without thinking. He watched his cute women wobble about. After a few minutes she gained confidence, enough to talk.

 

“How would you feel about being the Hokage?”  

He looked up from sharpening the sickle he brought, eyes heavy lidded, creased underneath. He was sitting on the bank.

“Heh. What an interesting question?”

She shrugged, almost falling over from the motion. He chuckled as she righted herself.

“It’s an important decision.” He stood, casually walking to her. 

She jealously watched how easy it was for him. He had it all, the power, talent. Charisma. As the head of his clan, she was worried she would receive insults and scorn from the Uchiha members she met. 

They had been some of the most respectful people to her. When she visited the complex, supervised by Aoi, they had been nothing but kind and thoughtful. 

“The position of Hokage is only as important as the people he leads. Any desire to serve would be so my clan would retain it’s respect. No child would have to die.”

“And no child would have to live without their parents.” She added, steadying herself again. 

“Yes,” He agreed thoughtfully. 

“Do you wish to be the Hokage?” She sounded worried, and he smirked at the tone.

“Heh, my little Sayuriama is distressed.” She began to pace, and he noticed she seemed to do better when she wasn’t so focused on falling in. “You’re cute.” 

“Huh?”

“Whether or not I become the Hokage,  _ I won’t leave you. _ ” He said it so matter of fact, so teasing, she folded her arms. Madara knew that the situation would only exacerbate the girl. Not to mention he could sense the presence of the little watchdog Tobirama had assigned his sister.

He would not budge till he was forced, and Madara smirked at the challenge. 

“You’re doing better.” She smiled at the praise, throwing her hands up.

“Indeed, I have finally outdone the great Madara Uchiha at his own game.” 

He smirked, then poked her, just enough to unbalance her.

She yelped as she fell back into the pond, causing him to laugh arrogantly. He quickly reached down, grabbing her arm.

As her head surfaced, she leveled a dark glare at him.

Ah yes, Madara would keep this one.

  
  


XXXXXXXXXXXX

  
  


The large building loomed in front of the Senju family, but only Sayuriama stopped to admire it. She had to pick up her pace to match the other after, but soon enough they were all in that infamous top room. 

The future Hokage's room.

Madara Uchiha was already there, and Sayuriama noted he had an older Uchiha at his side. They both looked handsome, elegant and authoritative. The Uchiha’s were not men to be missed. He smiled at her, ignoring the frowning brother at her side. Hashirama waved politely, and Mito nodded her head elegantly.

The room had more air when they arrived, and the councillors were looking distinctly relieved.

It was through long lashes Madara looked at her, the one eye not covered by his hair as teasing as ever. He smirked, his lips curling handsomely. She could feel the blush, but averted her eyes, sitting in between Mito and Tobirama. They sat, the council beginning. Sayuriama realized that the Daimyo had not come, but instead had sent his councillors instead, She waved to Takumi who gave her a nervous smile, eyes flicking to the Uchiha. 

The old man at the head of the table stood.

“The Elders of the city have decided that best person to take the position of first Hokage shall be Hashirama Senju.”

Sayuriama heard an intake of breath next down the table. Another of relief.

_ The insult _

She saw Madara stiffen- He had gave her the impression that it didn’t matter, but know she knew he lied. She glanced over to Hashirama who was white, looking as if all the blood had drained from him

“Very well.” He said in silky voice.

Catching himself, Madara looked over to Hashirama, and giving a thoughtful nod, before standing and leaving. The other Uchiha followed suit, not even a cool glance backward. She would have stood, gone after him, but a firm hand held down her arm. Tobirama held her down.

_ “Don’t.”  _ He muttered.

The room erupted, all talking.The council might not have realized it, but Hashirama was angry. She tensed as the oldest Senju stood up,the room going deathly still. 

He was still looking at the door Madara left through, and stepped out of his seat, rudely ignoring the council as he left. She could hear him calling after her fiance. Tobirama’s grip tightened as she looked to the door as well.

Mito stared straight ahead, and Sayuriama knew that Mito had known what was going to happen. What she didn’t understand it  _ why  _ Hashirama had been convinced it wouldn’t.

 

Tobirama turned to the company, releasing her arm, and looking satisfied. “Thank you for your trust in Hashirama. No doubt he’s honored, if not a bit shocked.”

He then stood, to which she and Mito responded in turn. 

They all bowed, then left the council behind. Sayuriama saw Takumi give her an apologetic look which she didn’t have time to respond too.

“Why didn’t you tell me- “ Sayuriama said, angry turned to Mito as they left. “That there was so much at stake?”

“I didn’t realize Hashirama had been so convincing to Lord Madar-”

Tobirama cut in. “It would seem he managed to convince your fiance that he would be chosen as Hokage. Hashirama was stupid to give Lord Uchiha false hope.” She bit her lip at the brother that had  _ refused  _ to speak with her for a week.

 

“Lord Madara would make an excellent Hokage, Tobirama.” Sayuriama said fiercely, making Tobirama turn, voice cold.

“Little sister?” Tobirama turned. “Rid yourself of sentimental delusions if you wish to be an Uchiha. The only thing Madara Uchiha has ever wanted was power.” Sayuriama would have punched him, or something, had Mito not stepped in between them. Mito interjected, standing between them hands out.

“Tobirama. You are being unreasonable.” She said. He didn’t say anything but she knew he was standing firm. “No doubt this will smooth over, as everything else has.”

“Don’t say that to Sayuriama’s precious Madara.” 

Sayuriama tilted her head up. “Maybe  _ it’s just a jilt to your pride _ . You’re the one who needs to change, Tobirama.”

He grit his teeth, leaving both women.

He resumed ignoring her.

  
  


XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

He stood before the Uchiha stone tablet, red eyes reading the characters over and over. Hashirama had tried, but this was the truth.

His heart burned in anger. 

Two paths that would converge.

Uchiha and Senju were as oil and water.

 

Madara looked at the Uchiha tablet, the meaning engraved into him. There could be no light without darkness.

Peace could not be achieved as long as the Hashirama promoted this warring state that conflicted with his false ideals of peace. Tobirama would see that there would never be. 

_ The hypocrisy _

 

_... _

_.... _

_..... _

_ Traitor _

 

_..... _

 

_ His eyes flashed opened, blood red.  _ He would have to make that change.

  
  


XXXXXXXXXXXX

  
  


She had managed to get the roof of the Senju compound and was examining the stars when he seemed to apparate out of the shadows. As she saw him, she sat up, and he chuckled.

“Madara!” He sat by her, taking care to make sure she couldn’t fall. He led her to sit in his lap. Her arm was around his waist, the stiff fabric wrinkling. Even sitting he managed to surround her.

For the last time since she had approached him, he turned her face to look at him, then kissed her till she was out of breath, till she thought she’d die of happiness. He commanded the affection out of her, demanded her whole soul in the kiss. 

  
  


After, he held her head against his chest, and she felt his deep breaths against her head.

For a while they were silent, and Madara stared at the moon, while she flickered her eyes between him and the sky.

  
  


“Would you like to leave? Just leave it all behind?” Her eyes saw him spoke, but she still stuttered. Madara was looking down at her, face blank.

“Stop it. It’s not fair to say-” He gave her a look that whipped the smile off her face.

 

“Can you imagine this world with no fighting?” She shook her head, the dark shadow of Kakuzu entering her mind. She shivered, and his grip tightened.

“Of course not.” He saw the fear in her, the weakness that a shinobi would destroy. The fear of death.

“Does Konoha seem like a village of peace?” 

Sayuriama looked over the houses, to the specks of light in the village, the cooling air still scented of the woods. She nodded slowly.

“Here. That’s the hope of this village- The village hidden in the Leaves.” She smiled cheekily. Madara’s face stayed smoothly expressionless. 

“This village was  _ conceived _ from that dream, but there will be no peace here, in the end.” His words got cold, and she was not long feeling welcome near him- his chakra spiked to the point where she could feel it without trying. “We are simply creating a militarized nation.”

_ Oh Madara- _

He was shaken. From not being trusted enough to become the hokage, to these thoughts, she suddenly saw him clearly.

For such a strong man, his feelings were deep. Her voice was tender as she touched him cheek, pleased when his eyes closed.

“This village is a proof we are trying.” 

He was suddenly standing, arm around her so she did not slip. He walked a bit away, raising his hands to gesticulate. 

“This place is proof that _ nothing we ever do will ever be enough _ .” He raised her face. “We can not break the cycle, only increase it.”

“Lord Madar-”

His turn was fierce, and he pointed a hand to her.

“Sayuriama, you have been mistreated, and even threatened by the creation of this village. You should know that it will all burn, one day.”

Her voice shook,  _ but for some reason she could not reach out and grab his hand.  _ While she disagrees with Tobirama and occasionally Hashirama, she knew, she could feel, that this village was no pointless.

But she didn’t know how to tell the man she loved. This stubborn, arrogant man, whose pride was  _ everything.  _ He lowered his hand, and she knew she had disappointed him. His fists clenched.

“Madara...”

“What would you do to be with me?” It was an angry question, one that he would force from her.

She bit her lip.

“I don’t understand.” He knew she was evading, gathering time, but he didn’t let her. He walked to her, grabbing her shoulders.

 

“Leave to be with me.”

Now he left her no grey space to even consider it. 

This place that had become her future... but Madara seemed to be part of her soul. And, she thought, she couldn’t leave. His clan, and everything he believed in, was here as well.

“I am devoted my family, and this village.” He looked like he would shake her.

“But, I... I love you.”

Madara stopped.

“Heh.” He pulled her up, twirling her. The stars above twinkled as he started laughing, openly. Sayuriama looked up at him, in awe at the open emotion. He then kissed her again.

After sat her down on the wide wood beam. Taking both of her hands in his, he looked to her. She was still lower mucher than his enormous height, even when he was sitting. 

“Marry me.” He demanded. She went that brilliant red he had come to admire. Nervously, she twisted her long kimono sleeves, clearly surprised. His tall form towered over her, caging her.

_ Begging her. _

“What?” She said quietly, unsure. “We are getting married.” He smirked at the agitated young bride. She flickered her beautiful eyes up. Madara grabbed her arm, moving till he hld a hand. His other went to a strand of loose hair, bringing it to his lips before letting it fall.

“I’ll take to you across the world, teach you, worship you. Marry me right now.” He was deadly serious, and as he stroked her face she felt a cold stone in her stomach. There was a look in his eyes, and he grabbed her hands. “I am the  _ only man  _ who can see your true potential.”

“My Lord,  _ Why _ ?” The women turned to look at his face, nervous. She was always nervous around him. He could change, leave, be better. But here.

“There is  _ no future _ for me here.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice gained strength, incredulity. 

He narrowed his dark eyes.

“Your brother has become the Hokage. My own clan has betrayed me, not believing that this place will  _ destroy them _ . I will not watch this entire city fall into shambles. Tobirama can preach equality to the crowds, but it’s clear he will never be fair to the Uchiha.”

She stopped, and went entirely still. 

“You can’t.” His eyes seemed soft as she said it. She reached forward, dragging him to her. But he was unmovable. “Tobirama is just stubborn- he doesn’t mean it-”

“Marry me, or I’ll be forced to leave without you. I won’t fight a losing battle. ” She felt tears come as he seemed to close before her, but this was madness. Madara was upset, clearly, but this was not a tantrum. No, this would be betrayal to Hashirama.

It would destroy him, and he would bring her.

“It’s late- can this not wait till morning? Then we can talk it over, and my mind won’t seem so fuzzy.” 

He stepped back, dropping her hand. It was so cold leaving his grasp. 

 

“No.” 

His voice was now was cold as her own heart. He was a supremely elegant figure in the dark, shadows playing well on him. 

 

“Please, Madara-”

“So you choose _them._ _him.”_

“Tobirama has nothing to do-” He raised his hand, and she stepped back in fear. Realizing what she had done, she walked forward, to grab him. He stepped back, turning his face away.

“You don’t trust me.” His words made her angry.

_ Why?  _

She balled her fists. 

“You are asking me to choose between the village, _ my brothers _ , and you.”

His back went straight at her words. “Heh. I guess I am.”

“You are asking too much, too quickly-” Madara raised a hand, silencing her.

“So I am asking too much of the women who desires to be my wife? The one who wished to be my confidant?  _ The one I trusted _ ?” The cyanide was back in those inhospitable words, and he moved to the edge of the roof.

“Madara-”

“Or maybe you just desired to keep  _ your brothers _ wishes. To  _ tame  _ me.”  

“Stop!” She cried, hand brushing his shirt, but for a moment he was too fast.

_ “ _ So then, you are too  _ weak _ to be with me.”

He disappeared.

 

For the last time, he left her alone. 

 

She collapsed into the shingles. 

 

It was only hours later that Tobirama would find her, motionless. He pulled her up, carrying the girl inside. He tried to speak to her, but stopped.

Her gaze was empty.

And then Tobirama knew.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

  
  


The next day, the letter came, the one Hashirama had feared.

Sayuriama was in a terror as the day passed, waiting for someone to end this joke. She waved away all who tried to reason with her, until she was called by Hashirama. 

His face was grim, and she knew that this would be what would break her.

It was formal statement, from the Uchiha clan, declaring that Madara Uchiha had formally stepped down from the position of clan leader. He had left earlier the previous night, and as due position declared, that they didn’t know where Madara stood on his engagement. 

But that wasn’t the worse.

There was another letter, received by Tobirama from a covert member of the newly formed black op’s. Hashirama nodded him in, sister at his side, sitting perfectly still. Even he, the stern Tobirama seemed uncomfortable handing her the report from an outer territory. 

Her eyes widened in horror.

  
  


There had been another woman. 

She had allegedly been carrying his child, but later when it became inconvenient, he had disposed of her. 

Sayuriama had been elegantly dressed when she was read the letter, in one of the comfortable rooms Hashirama used in the compound. She sat so still, that even her hair ornaments did not ring once. Her eyes flickered at Tobirama just once, before closing. 

The letter slipped from her hands to the floor, and she let the long kimono sleeves cover her shaking hands. 

 

Sayuriama nodded her head softly. Hashirama walked  over to her, arms out. She raised her hand him back. “I understand.”

Tobirama viciously turned.

 

“As soon as this gets out, it will be shameful for all involved.”

“Are we going to believe this? It’s hardly a signed confession.” Hashirama said, gesticulating to him, “I know Madara, what’s in hi heart-” Tobirama passionately cut in. 

Sayuriama was quiet.

“Don’t be a fool, Hashirama. Your, and Sayuriama’s, blindness for Madara Uchiha will end now!” 

“It’s  _ not like _ Madara.” Hashirama defended, but Tobirama wouldn’t be stopped.

“He did this not only to the village, to you, but our very family!” Tobirama roared venomously, pointed at Sayuriama  “ _WHILE_ he happened to be wooing our _own sister_! Would you choose him over your family, our sister!” Tobirama maligned and Hashirama frowned.

 

Hashirama turned gently to his sister.

 

“This is Sayuriama’s decision. No one will take that from her.” Her standing surprised both boys, tears glittering in her eyes. A strangled breath escaped her.

“This moment mark the end of my engagement.” She pushed herself back, turning to the doors. 

“Sayuriama-” She quietly went to the door. 

 

“Hashirama- I have no place in my heart for those who  _ would threaten you _ .” Tears ran down her face. n a moment she was gone, followed by Tobirama.

Hashirama put his head down, finally letting his tears come.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

The following day, the news was sent out that wedding between Madara Uchiha and Sayuriama Senju would no longer be taking place.

It did not take long to spread. 

Later that day, Mito went to Sayuriama’s room and was surprised to see her calmly going through a large pile of paper. She seemed restrained, but deliberate, occasionally flicking the letters into the flame. It was then she noted the fire looked to have ash in it. She had been burning paper, and a lot of it. 

Mito realized how much she had changed from that young girl she knew. 

The girl, noticing her approach, stopped and looked up. “What are you doing?”

“These are the letters he sent me.” She didn’t have to say the were from.

“Yes.”

“I’m watching my heart...  _ burn _ . Don’t try and comfort me.” 

She turned and with an angry motion set another page on fire. Mito could see the words, intimate and tender, consumed, mirrored by the Fire flickered behind Sayuriama’s violet eyes. “ I will  _ not  _ accept it.” 

She was taking responsibility, Mito realized. “Sayuriama-”

“ _ No one _ has a right to know what he had done to me,  _ how he had lied _ .” A sob fell out of her lips, and the girl was forced to put the letters down for a moment to wipe her eyes. “ _ How I believed him _ .”

“Sayuriama-”

“ _ Don’t _ .” She said darkly. “This is my right, to feel this. My right to finally feel betrayed to someone you’ve given  _ everything  _ for.” 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” Sayuriama shook her head, tears staining the letters she had picked again. Mito caught a line-

_ Would you open for me? _

 

“You tried to warn me.” Mito tilted her head.

“I have never tried to be anything other than protective. He had no right to your heart.” Sayuriama stood, flinging the papers into the flames.

“I  _ hate him.  _ I hope  _ he _ burns.” And then, she broke down in tears, falling to her knees. Mito watched in shock as Sayuriama’s fist hit her desk, leaving a large dent.

 


	20. Scroll 20

**Scroll 20**

 

A couple of months passed.

For Takumi, the son of the fire daimyo, it had been a good one. His father, sick, had no choice but to stay on bed rest, leaving Takumi with the charge of taking care of the treaty. Which had been terrifying; But he had found his courage, as Sayuriama Senju continued her friendship with him; it had been the start of a new chapter.

She trusted him, talking to him, often making sure she passed by to chat when she could; which they agreed meant his father was nowhere in sight. It was just a little kindness, but it had been enough. He found his a self worth. He was, no matter what, the son of a long line of nobility, and worthy of it, despite his frail constitution.

That’s what brought him to her house. They were friends, and he felt a desperate need to see her. The week had been a shock for all. But, with Madara formally renouncing the village, he knew Sayuriama would need him. He had seen the fervent way she had looked at him, despite the detached the way she talked of him, when the topic came up.

The guards around him felt pained as the young lord kept up his meager running pace.

He turned into the school house. It was the early morning, but he knew she’d be here. She never once broke in the public eye, but continued in good faith performing her duties. She was the image of grace and stature that none dare touch.

_Heartless Sayuriama, they said._

_It was just for the treaty._

_Others defended- who could blame her?_

He ran up the stairs, his guard following him. However, outside the classroom, he motioned them to stay back. They took guard outside the door, and another went back out to the window, effectively surrounding him.

Takumi saw her sitting alone at a large desk. She was writing some strokes, sitting straight, and had no doubt they would be beautiful as her.

“Lady Sayuriama.” She looked over, surprised, her handed lifting, then setting down the inky brush. She raised, bowing.

“Lord Takumi.”

“Forgive me for the suddenness!” He stopped, bowing awkwardly,  but with good inten. He saw her small smile, and felt the victory of it. “I have a question for you!”

“It is nothing. How may I help the Lord Daimyo?” She smiled kindly.

“Well, it’s actually a personal request.” He could see her suddenly turn in, as if to ready herself for refusal.

“Lord Takumi-”

“I didn’t mean that!” He blushed madly, but she grinned.

“Forgive me, occasionally it still happens.”

“Yes, of course... I would just like to ask if you have any interesting in traveling? And learning more  about fighting stuff?” She blinked, surprised. “Like around the counties and learning?”

“What?” It had been such a long time since she had thought of it. Her dreams of being a ninja had been dreamed away, Madara replacing them. But now, could she return to those thoughts? “Well, I suppose. But I’m no talent there.”

“But you’d be open?” He said excitedly.

“Uh, yes?” He smiled, then bowed.

“Forgive me! I must go now!”

Leaving her a bit worried, he ran out, almost tripping on the mats and she stared at the door until her class came in.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama was surprised to receive a summons from the Hokage building. Normally Hashirama prefered a more personal touch, and Tobirama would just find her himself. She turned to her aide, Genka who had been helping her teach since the class sized doubled. She was also efficient as a task manager, making sure all the papers were orderly when Sayuriama had been out of commission.

“Could you take over teaching the rest of the day? I’ll trade you, and do grade work tonight.” Genka looked up in surprise.

“Weird request, but I’m not going to say no. The Hokage calling?” It was weird to hear people call her silly older brother something so formal as Kage.

“Ah, Yes, Hashirama.”

“Then you should go immediately.” Sayuriama bowed.

“Thank you.”

As she left the building, she saw a flash in the corner of her eye. As she turned, she saw Hayo Uchiha standing at the porch across the street, a little casually. Since Madara had left, she knew she was still constantly shadowed. After he saw she noticed him, he walked over.

“Lady Senju.” He bowed, looking handsome, his inky dark hair making her insides twist. She returned the gesture.

“Did Tobirama send you?” He shrugged.

“As a Konoha ninja, it’s one of the more pleasant duties to make sure you’re safe.” She grinned.

“How charming of you.” Then her face went dark, and her smile turned into a frown, and they began walking.

“What’s the matter, Lady Senju?” Hayo asked, surprised.

“It’s just,” She gave a sad sigh as she walked.“I’ve been unfair to you. I’m sure I’ve hurt your feeling repeatedly. Forgive me.” She bowed deeply, and Hayo went red, waving.

“There is no need Lady Senju! It’s me who should apologize!” He bowed several times back. “You should feel no need to be sorry.” She looked at him, skeptical.

“Feelings are so fragile, aren’t they. I’m ashamed of my disregard for you, who had always been so kind.” Hayo stopped, his heart warm. He motioned her forward, and they began walking.

“There is little a person wouldn’t do for love, huh?” She looked at him, his sad eyes warm, understanding. “But I understand. He was magnificent.” She flushed.

“Most of the Uchiha have been stoic, so _cool_ to me now. Forgive me Hayo. You don’t seem very Uchiha at the moment.”

He laughed. “Most of my fellow clan members would agree, but I promise you, La-”

“Sayuriama. We are friends.” She said, and he smiled largely.

“Sayuriama- I promise that the Uchiha _do_ feel. Just deeply, and it’s an agony for most of us to know love, and lose it.” She stared ahead, blank and doubting. “He did feel something.”

She stared straight, not giving away her feelings.

Hayo knew he thought about the exiled clan leader often. The entire clan has been in chaos for a while, and there was much that changed. But for her to be so close to him, maybe the only person who had a portion of his heart- it wouldn’t be easy to move on. Yet, she had appeared at the school the next day after the announcement, deflecting questions and teaching like she had never been engaged. But any real shinobi he could see she was tired, so drained all she could do was work until she couldn’t think. It was a rare women to channel her feelings.

They reached the Hokage building and he turned to her.

“Be happy, Sayuriama.” He put a hand on her back. She looked to him. “I will forever be a friend, _notwithstanding_ being an Uchiha.” He gave a light laugh that she returned.

“And I a faithful ally and friend in return- _notwithstanding_ you are an Uchiha.” She then narrowed her eyes, giving him a rather conspiratorial smile. She leaned in, voice low. “May I ask a question?”

“Sure?” He was caught off by the sudden change in her demeanor.

“Don’t you think Aoi Senju is rather cute?”

“She always has been cute.” He said with a smile. There was the sound of someone behind dropping something heavy. He turned, and noticed Aoi there. She had dropped a large pile of books, and turned quickly to pick them off.

“Then, could you be so kind help her?”

He blushed, turning, and Sayuriama entered the building, all smiles.

She wasn’t surprised to be led directly upstairs, but when she reached Hashirama’s office there was a party of people already there; she quietly entered. Hashirama saw her immediately, and directed her to sit between Mito and Tobirama. The latter was to his right, and she sat in between them. In the center of the room a large table had been erected.

Lining the left side of the room was the council, and across, she saw Takumi with several men dressed in thick armour, and an old man. _A Samurai-_ Behind Takumi’s sitting figure were several samurai, but he openly beamed at her, and she waved back, pleased to see him looking so happy.

Hashirama jovially welcomed them in his formal Hokage outfit, and then Tobirama went on to state the purpose of the invitation, to form an alliance with the land of Iron. She looked to the old man, astonished. What could Hashirama want with the Land of Iron, a known territory to despise ninja?

“We wish to create a more formal treaty, so the Land or Iron knows that the Village can be trusted to not attack them. That this new system will not victimize your lands in any way.” Tobirama continued.

The Old Samurai looked across the table to Hashirama.

“We can’t trust Shinobi to not use this new system to their advantage.” A mutter of arguments broke out across the table.

To Sayuriama’s surprise, Takumi stood.

“Since my father’s been taken ill, I am here to speak for the Daimyo.” Hashirama nodded- he respected this soft spoken boy. He knew his own mind, unlike the father who had wasted his life away.

“I suggest, not only for the trust between us, but for the safety of Lady Sayuriama, a diversion. We do not know where Lord Uchiha has gone, just that he has threatened the Village Hidden in the Leaves.” Sayuriama could see the majority of the table look her way.

“I propose that princess Sayuriama be sent to the Land of Iron, to serve as an emissary, a sign of peace.”

Tsunada stood, “Absolutely not. She’d be like a lamb in a pack of wolves.”

Tobirama then turned, cool as ever.

“Madara Uchiha is a still menace and has threatened Lady Senju personally before he left.” She turned to him, shocked at his words. “I will not risk she be moved while he is still prowling about.”

Another council member spoke, jumping up.“With her here, she is _more_ a threat then she would be in the Land of Iron.” Sayuriama went cool at the assertion.

Hashirama turned to the council member, who then became very quiet.

Takumi then put his fist on the table. “I will be _heard_. I am the future Daimyo, and the your success of this Shinobi program rests in my hands.” Hashirama put his own hands together, looking at the boy, who now turned to him. He had been uncharacteristically quiet about his opinion. “Lord Hokage, the decision rests in your hands, but know I will not endorse a disagreement between us if it means the a potential war with the Land of Iron.”

Lord Hashirama looked to him, and to Sayuriama. There was a look in his eyes, but as he turned back, she didn’t catch it. He laughed, making Tobirama turn to him in  frustration.

Everyone in the room turned, a few snickering. _Sometimes_ , Sayuriama thought, _it was a miracle this man was the Hokage_.

Hashirama continued, all eyes on him. “I believe that Lord Daimyo Takumi is correct. And there is no person better to be an emissary for peace then Sayuriama Senju.” Most of the Shinobi looked to him, disbelief clear. “She has shown her desire to see this peace thrive, in my eyes. She is best person to go.”

“This isn’t the time to joke, Hashirama.” Tobirama said, irritated.

“Tobirama, I have full trust that Lady Senju is a capable decision. With a basic ninjutsu, her appearance can be altered where manually it can’t be changed. She is eager to travel, quick to learn and _completely untrained by ninja._ She could be taught the Samurai way. _”_

Sayuriama turned to him, eyebrows perking up in interest. Hashirama turned to the older Senju women. “She could be accompanied by Lady Tsunada Senju, as a cover.” The older woman nodded fervently.

_Hashirama..._

He smiled at her, knowing what she would say. _How could she not, if he thought the only way to keep her safe was to send her away?_

“Do you accept to serve as an emissary to the Land of Iron, Sayuriama?”

She bowed her head, a strange mixture of grief and excitement.

“Yes, _Lord Hokage_.”

The older man looked on, his face turning into a frown. He turned to Takumi and nodded, settling the matter.

“Then, as Daimyo of the Land of Fire, I promise to fund this village.” Hashirama nodded, looking greatly relieved.

“And we have a deal.”

The samurai stood, Sayuriama an interesting look. “Because of the inherent danger, this decision must not be delayed. We all must not speak of this to anyone, never outside of this room.”

Sayuriama, and the rest nodded as he turned to her. “Brace yourself Lady Senju, and do all necessary to be ready by tomorrow night.” She nodded, receiving some skeptical looks that were silenced with a cool look from Tobirama.

The group disbanded, until only Hashirama and Tobirama left.

Sayuriama was still kneeling.

“You didn’t tell me that he threatened me.” She said, with a cold calm she had begun to possess. Hashirama frowned. “But I guess that explains the increased guards.”

Tobirama turned to look out the window.

“This is incredibly dangerous to the village, and you. It’s clear Hashirama finally feels threatened enough to strike back.”

Hashirama frowned. “I won’t lie, though I don’t think Madara would even hurt you, I worry about it. But I am more concerned about you. I believe that a change in scene, a higher responsibility would, is something you have earned.”

Tobirama stepped forward. “We can protect her-” He turned her, voice low, but was surprised when he found her arms around him..

“I know. But let me protect everything this village stands for. Let me protect _you._ ” Holding her, Tobirama saw Hashirama leaning his head in his hands with his elbows on the desk. There were tears in his eyes, but he spoke with great conviction.

“She’s right. Sayuriama will only struggle here, at the moment. Tobirama, it is time for us to let go.”

He didn’t say to him that if Madara still wishes to find her, then he’d have to search from Land of Lightning, to Wind, to Sky- but Tobirama caught the gist. But he’d never consider of the Land of Iron. Hashirama sighed. “I know this isn’t the ideal for any of us.”

“No, it’s what needs to be done. When the village is finished being stabilized, I’ll return. A few years is nothing, huh.” Tobirama hugged her, surprising both of them. Silent tears ran down his face.

“I can’t stop it. I know it’s near impossibly change when you and Hashirama have stubbornly set your sight on something.” Tobirama looked strained for the words. “But...”

“I will miss you, older brother.”

Tobirama frowned, then squeezed his eyes shut as a rare tear slid down his cheek.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

She had Mito help her cut her hair, the idea being too emotional for Tsunada. Even when Tsunada had been granted permission to accompany her, it was clear that she hated the idea. Mito had been sad, but more understanding. She even reminded her it would be a great chance to visit new places learn more.

The fear was no longer there. She had been trained by Madara Uchiha, was the daughter of the Senju, and was to become a warrior in the Land of Iron.

_She would be okay_

She reminded herself of that when Mito held the sharp kunai to a thick strand of her long locks. She watched as the dark tresses, pride of the Senju, fell to her sides.

She watched Tsunada across from her, her face full of discomfort. Her head gradually got lighter, the feeling of wind whipping across her skull.

Finally Mito stopped. “This will do.”

Sayuriama reached up, feeling the cropped hair, the cool wind on her scalp. Tsunada held out the mirror and Sayuriama took a long look at the boyish cut that graced her still face- a face that looked mismatched, like a young boy. Bile grew in her stomach, but she pushed it down.

She had shed the one things she was confident about- Her beauty.

“It is done.” Mito said quietly.

“So this is freedom.” Sayuriama replied cryptically.

She stood in the male kimono she was wearing, the image of a young boy wearing a woman's face. Mito picked up the long glorious strands, wrapping them around her hand. She walked across the floor, footsteps quiet the slight shuffling signaling her putting copious locks into a drawer.

Tsunada almost went into tears, but controlled herself. She herself had changed her appearance, her blonde hair dyed black- But cutting princess Sayuriama’s hair was like defacing a sacred monument, a breach of trust.

“Are you ready, princess?”  

“Yes...”

Mito once again approached, a paper seal in her hand. Sayuriama opened her robe, revealing her a sliver of unclad chest and stomach.

The room filled with smoke.

In the place of the former beauty, stood a handsome boy. He looked similiar to Sayuriama, but the anatomy had been changed, face taking on a distinctly Senju tilt. Where there had been curves, there was now straight muscle- the delicate face had been lengthened, firmed and made into a teenage boy.

She looked her brothers.  

“Looks like it worked. We have a three year supply of these?” Her voice was deepened to a male's voice. Tsunada nodded, looking at her like a ghost.

“It would be easy to make more, of course.” Mito said. “But what name should we call you now?” Sayuriama blinked, the thought having not come to her before. There was a rustle, and then the shadow of a small bird appeared at her window.

Sayuriama give an ironic smile, thinking back to what Madara had often called her. _Little bird._ It was appropriate, wasn’t it? She would rise from the ashes he left behind.

“Sho.” Which meant, _to fly_.

Mito nodded. As they closed the door, Mito turned to her, a hand going to her stomach, eyes widening.

“One of the seals is gone.”

Sayuriama gritted her teeth angrily.

“Madara.”

It was all Mito needed to confirm her suspicions. They went through a temporary exit in the giant wood wall of the Senju compound. They had to walk a bit until they reached the envoy of the old Samurai, and waiting there, her brothers. Tobirama looked as if he had seen a ghost when he saw her, and Hashirama gave what seemed to be a wistful smile.

Most of the men were on horses already, and Sayuriama saw two more waiting for them.

Just like that day, Sayuriama thought bitterly.

Things had changed. What was a bunch warring clans was now a powerful city, full of life and joy. She had been a girl, and was now... a man? The thought made her smirk a bit.

It was quick.

With a hug from Mito, a kiss from both brothers of her forehead.She and Tsunada mounted on horses.

“Until later-” Hashirama said, stepping up next to her, a faint smile on his face. Tobirama had a flat look, arms crossed.

She smiled weakly at his stubborn desire to not show emotion.

“Until...later.” She repeated, her feeling unable to manifest into words. For once, she had no verbal acuity to say what she had the words for.

The head samurai nodded, and all the horses raced off.

Sayuriama had to turned back. Her last look of her family was then, standing in tall grass and bathed in the eternal sunshine of Konohagakure.

The convoy was much quicker than the one from the land of Eddies, as the Samurai didn’t treat her as a delicate woman. The horses were used to traveling longer distances, and the weather held.

The samurai were respectful of her, and wary of Tsunada- but Sayuriama was quick to make friends who didn’t have to gaze at her beauty. Most of the Samurai were men who had left their families at a young age to join ranks and protect the land of iron. They had sons and daughters her age, and she found a great sense of ease with her disguise.

For once, she was not stared at, but just occasionally teased about performing a ninja stip show, and taking off her seals. Tsunada tried putting a stop to that, to no avail.  

The old leader samurai was named Michio. He was a dignified old man, with a traditional whiskers and a penchant for rambling about old stories. He had no problem with ‘Sho’ as he was a good kid, listening far more than talking. One evening, the old man turned to her, as she was collecting firewood.

He reached into his pack, pulling out several blades. He gave her a _katana_ , then a _tantō_ , a smaller blade.

“We have no space or weight to carry practice swords. I know your lord brother said you have no training, but I find that hard to believe, seeing you move.” She nodded, and Tsunada snorted in anger. “I’m not accusing, Lady Tsunada, it’s necessary for all of us to know a little.”

Sayuriama looked at the blades. “You... you want me to train? In kenjutsu?”

“Yes.” The old man stroked his beard, “I’d like to teach you a specific type, _Iaido_.” She made a confused face and the men around gave a chuckle.

“Quiet you dogs. _Iaido_ is a technique where one uses a smooth controlled move when drawing a sword from it’s scabbard. If you can become quick, it will force most ninja not be able to do hand signs- and the blood drawn will be flicked off.” She looked excited now, her smile large.

“Oh wow cool!” The men around her laughed, and continued working on setting up camp. The old man nodded his head.

“And we’ll start now. I hope Lady Tsunada knows a bit of healing chakra.” The said women paled as Sayuriama laughed, the boyish sound filling the empty forest.

  



	21. Scroll 21

**Scroll 21**

 

Tsunada was distraught. There had never been a moment in her life since her husband had died, that she had wished for anything more than a baby to hold and love. Her famed strength wavered.  _ The golden arrow Senju was weak now. _

The void that had almost consumed her made her slowly lose her grip. She was not able to take missions, and she was relegated to the backlines- the nursery. What was meant as an insult turned to one of the greatest blessings in her life.

She had met the young Senju princess. Tsunada had noticed the little Sayuriama the moment was brought into the nursery. The mother had been there, to prompt moral, and she had brought the newest addition to their family, the baby girl. The family was rising in the Senju ranks quickly, and everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before Hashirama would become one of the leaders there. 

The girl didn’t share much of the Senju mother's looks, the white spiky hair, but as Tsunada approached, she noticed the baby’s violet eyes were the same. Even then, the baby was attentive and watchful, taking in the new scene while she sucked on a makeshift toy. 

The Senju mother, in all her glory, turned to Tsunada. She immediately walked up to the widow, and putting little Sayuriama in her arms. The little girl looked up, then smiled, touching the women’s golden hair. The mother turned to her, a smile on her face.

“She likes you- I trust that.” 

It had been then that forever cemented that Sayuriama was not only the Senju mother's responsibility; She would be Tsunada’s reason for breathing, to keep this girl safe. With her purpose renewed, she had become a fearful kunoichi known as the  _ golden arrow _ to her enemies.  

Then, the day the news came that almost ruined her.

The Senju mother and daughter had been kidnapped. The news had sent ripples of fear through the Senju- had it been Uchiha? The young Lord Hashirama went personally with his Lord Father. They returned with a very traumatized little girl and news that the Senju mother had not made it out. 

The family had not been the same after, hatred of the alleged Uchiha perpetrators deepening to a new level, especially in Tobirama Senju.

The girl was soon old enough to be trained, which she showed no talent. Even worse, as the girl bloomed, it began to be apparent that she would be extraordinarily beautiful. There would be no helping it; She was sent to the Land of Eddy’s for years, for protection. Tsunada had fought the Uchiha with all her might to protect her.

Then, the treaty was set, and Sayuriama was sent for. Tsunada could hardly believe when Lord Hashirama approached her, asking her to be the young Senju princess’s escort and guide. It had been the greatest honor of her life, and they had met one another soon after. 

But, for all that time, her entire dignity, had come to this! 

 

Her beloved girl was currently letting herself be  _ chopped _ , making crude jokes with the samurai. It hadn’t even been a week before she had became one of them. They were at the border of the land of rain, and the old man told her dear girl that she had to  _ pass _ a basic swordsmanship test, or she would be forced to run the rest of the day, the build stamina. 

“AGH!” The said girl recklessly hurled herself at her opponent, who delicately slipped out of line, taking a side swipe at her, nicking her face. 

“Sayuriama!” She yelled, and the girl turned.

“Sho! Tsuna-  _ SHO _ ” She was kicked in the back, falling to the ground to eat a face full of mud- she didn’t raise her head as the older man sighed.

Michio stroked his beard. “Indeed Sho. Lady  _ Tsuna _ , may be distracting you but you need to get used to distraction. Stand up and do it again.”

Sayuriama did, and this time, she blocked out the voices around her, focusing on the man before her. She heard his clothes, the wave of his hair. She felt his chakra, and saw the moment he rushed forward. It was slow as she saw him step forward.

Metal against metal as she successfully parried the sword. 

Old man Michio smiled, then turned to Tsunada. The old woman frowned at the gentle smile he gave her, even though her old heart fluttered. 

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Mito was sitting across from Hashirama, uncharacteristically tapping a finger on her teacup. Hashirama, busy growing a miniature bonsai plant, only noticed when the tapping became louder. His dark eyes looked at his lovely wife. 

“What’s wrong, my dear?” Mito stopped, looking up in surprise. 

“Did you, before Madara, talk with him about the Nine-tails?” Hashirama stopped, tea at his mouth. After a moment he took a drink.

“Yes.” She bit her lip.

“The two-seal had been peeled off.” Hashirama put the pot down, looking at her with concern., but he nodded. “Sayuriama confirmed that Madara released it.”

“And you’re worried that Madara knows Sayuriama is a  _ jinchuriki _ . There is little doubt he does. It’s near impossible to miss anything with his eyes.” 

Mito stood.

“ _ Hashirama _ , why aren’t you worried?” Hashirama reached over the table, to grab her hand, and she let him. The sunlight was kind today, but it would soon be winter, and he relished where the beams hit his skin, her smooth skin. “Why would you allow him to _ even begin _ to be around her!” 

“I already knew he had removed the seal. He was also training her-” Mito’s eyes widened. “And though Madara is stubborn, arrogant, hard to understand and bear near at times, and currently furious at me- at the village, I can promise he won’t harm Sayuriama.”

“How can you be so calm? We released a young woman, full of unbridled jinchuuriki chakra apparently, to people we hardly know or trust! Samurai who can’t defend her!” Hashirama gave her a look and she quieted her voice.

“Mito-”

“Hashirama if Madara finds her, h-”

“Not even Madara will enter the Land of Iron, or fight Samurai unprovoked. Even in the worst case scenario, he hold affection for her, and I doubt he will harm her.”

She was squeezing his hands, so hard it would leave marks. He remained calm, unusually serious. “He’s already proven to be unstable!”

“Madara  _ loves _ Sayuriama, even if won’t admit it to himself. Even if he leaves, breaks her heart and tried to run away, he  _ knows  _ he can’t bring himself to hurt her. He couldn’t even force her to leave with him, though he tried. He would not force her. ” Mito sighed, this explanation endlessly tiring her. 

“Or he wanted to use her as a pawn against us. He  _ knows. _ ” Hashirama shrugged. 

“There is good in him.”

“That can be debated.” Hashirama put a hand to his head.

“Tsunada is with her as well.” 

“Lady Tsunada is old.” Hashirama frowned, but Mito continued. “Those seals may hide her, but not even that will last forever.”

He sighed again, but smiled.

“By that time, this should be over. Madara will come around.”

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama remembered what  _ wet _ really meant crossing the Land of Rain. The good weather had been switched all to quickly against them, and the days of travel and sword fighting turned into huddling under thick cloaks, endless grey before her. With no distraction, her mind traveled to  _ him _ . 

The pain the had come the day she learned the news of his mistress had been worse than any physical injury she had yet suffered. All of her hope, that he would come back, was brutally replaced with the searing agony of truth which slowly formed into apathy. That apathy was the worst, because it was just a cover for the pain, and she knew that reserve of pain could open. 

 

But here in the rain, the deep well opened, making her feel alone. 

It awakened  _ that  _ memory. 

 

_ She feared she would never felt dry again; It had soaked the white matted hair of her mother, but did nothing to dampen the fear of the men behind them.  _

_ Her mother had taken her to another place where the rain was constant, but that didn’t stop the men. Even now the thought of large dark cloaks were closer, and her mother was fighting several terrifying men. She promised the little girl that nothing bad would ever happen to her. Now Sayuriama would learn that mother's couldn't always keep their promises.  _

_ Something red hit her cheek, and she raised a small hand to feel the sticky stuff, trembling at the hot moisture. The girl shivered as her mother had blocked a knife coming towards her, but received a sword in her back for it. She saw her beloved mother fall to the ground, red staining her white hair. She did take six or seven with her, but she left Sayuriama defenseless, a new ninja with few skills.  _

_ The older Senju women had been quick to die, blessed to not view what would happen next to her daughter.  _

_ Sayuriama was taken, bound in irons, dragged to what seemed like an iron table. The men had ignored her young cries as she was bound, metal against metal.  _

_ Metal against flesh _

 

_ The fox had appeared, surprising them all.  _

_ The small child looked to the giant orange ball of fire, eyes blazing and half of the men died in the following seconds. But she couldn’t move, and she was so tired. The flaming beast had looked to her in anger, to end her, but another ninja jumped receiving the claws. _

_ Hashirama told her that’s when their allies, the Uzumaki clan, had found her. _

_ She had been on the verge of death, to be implanted with some rouge jutsu. Instead, seeing a miraculous chance, the head of the clan make a risky move. With the girl chained, her clothes ripped.  _

_ The fox's power swirled, and she felt the growling inside. The fury and power that threatened to consume her. Seal after seal was forced on her, almost killing her from the constraints. Overly catious.  _

_ Finally, she laid back, motionless as the Uzumaki clan was still.She became the first jinchuuriki for the fox.  _

_ A monster. _

_ She was now a monster. _

_ Sayuriama remembered opening her eyes, and seeing Hashirama’s worried young face. He started crying when he saw that she was alive, and she had to remind him not too. She laid looking at the still raining sky, filled with a strange new sensation.  _

_ As she remembered her mother's death, so also began to sob. Hashirama had to pick her little toddler body, and carry it back to the Uzumaki’s current camp. _

_ There was no more traveling with her mother. _

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama sighed, the cold rain making her breath visible. 

Tsunada turned to her, and Sayuriama noticed that she wasn’t wet, using her chakra to keep her dry. 

“You should teach me how to do that.” Tsunada snorted at her request. There were just things she couldn’t be pressured to do. “I know that Hashirama said you could.” Tsunada turned forward stubbornly, looking at the men before them. 

“The Samurai won’t be pleased if I were to  _ sully _ you.” One of the said samurai turned, his cloak wet and armor heavy. He pulled at the reins of his horse so he could trot evenly with them, obviously wanting to talk to him.

“Youta.” He was a thick man, in his forties. 

“Sho. Lady Tsuna,” Both nodded back. He was jovial and happy man, often volunteering to practice with her, making her feel involved. “I think that many a samurai and horse would be grateful to know that magic.” 

“It’s not  _ magic,  _ it’s ninjutsu!” Tsunada exclaimed, making Sayuriama laugh at her horrified face. “And you’re too old to learn.”

“Regardless, the old man Michio would be more than pleased to feel his bones warm.” Youta assured, making Tsunada blush. 

“And,” Sayuriama said, “There’s a good chance I  _ won’t _ be able to learn it.” 

Pushed, Tsunada sighed. Lord Tobirama would be disappointed in her, but Hashirama had pulled her aside, telling her Sayuriama had been receiving training. He allowed her to teach, if she felt it was appropriate. She was going to say no again, but then a dark face entered her head. Madara. 

“Fine. But this is on  _ my  _ terms!” She exclaimed. “And it will be mostly medical.”

“Of course!” Sayuriama smiled, no doubt her cheeky boy’s disguise not quite as cute as her own. 

“Now tell me, what have you learned?”

Sayuriama proceeded to do so. Tsunada was nearly blown away when she hopped off her horse, to show her climbing a tree.

Later, they stopped in a village, open to all those with money. Sayuriama and Tsunada settled in the room at the strange metal room this place was made of.

“Who taught you?” Sayuriama turned, the old women thoroughly confused and worn out. 

“Lord Uchiha.” Tsunada knew better than to push that answer. It was clear that without her, she had been entrapped by that rat and then torn apart. She went to help Sayuriama out of the Samurai armor that old man Michio had made her start wearing. It was heavy stuff. 

With a heavy sigh, the last piece was removed, and Sayuriama turned to her chest. The rain had soaked through, and the seal was near useless. She peeled it off, and with a poof, she was once again herself. 

She stretched, breathing in.

“Freedom! Those, it’s much easier to pee as a guy.” Tsunada grimaced, then took out another seal, slapping it on her. “Ow!” 

Once again, she was a boy.

“We are under disguise. Take this seriously...  _ Sho _ .”

“Of course, Lady Tsuna.” She did a dramatic bow. “My Lady.” She swatted at her head. With new agility Sayuriama dogged smoothly, running to the door.

“Let’s go eat.”

Tsunada was forced the follow the dancing boy, ashamed. ‘Sho’ continued the shenanigans, and seeing the fellow, older, samurai, ran to the bar they were all perched at. There were calls of Sho around and she sat next to them. 

A women with a baby on her hip came over, asking if he’d like a drink. Sayuriama turned and looked at Tsunada who subtly shook her head.  

“Water? Cute baby though.” The women nodded, her white blonde hair bobbing, looking pleased she’d noticed. 

“Why thank you sugar. His name’s Hanzo, and mine’s Haru.”

“Nice. I’m Sho!” The women smiled, then went to the back. Youta turned to her, winking.

“Not bad, but I don’t think she’s your type.” Sayuriama flushed. 

“You don’t need to be in love to be nice to someone. And trust me- I’ve learned my lesson about love.”

“What’s that?” Youta said, curiously. 

Sayuriama looked down at the wooden table, tracing a whorl.

“It takes more then it gives.” Youta shrugged, thinking of his wife and kids back home.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Hashirama stood atop the cliffs, looking over the village. He loved this city, and all the hope it stood for- the hope that this legacy would continue. Yet, darkness was at the edges. 

There was a small rustle, and he knew he had come. He was calm, smiling as he turned.

“Madara.”

The Uchiha stood behind him, the large gunbai in his hand. His eyes were red. 

“Hashirama, where  _ is _ she.”

“Madara-” Hashirama went to walk forward, but Madara pointed his giant fan at him.

“I asked you a question!” Madara went to the pouch at his waist with his free hand. There he pulled a thick wad of dark hairs from it. They glinted in the sun, like rivers of beauty.  

He  _ had _ returned for her.  

It was clear Madara must have checked Sayuriama’s room...he could not,  _ could not _ let Madara do this. 

Hashirama was quiet, while Madara seething with anger. 

“So, Senju, this is how you slowly destroy everything we Uchiha stand for. Clever, Hashirama.” Hashirama looked on in surprise. 

“What do you mean?”

“Ha, do you think I haven’t seen how you let her bewitch me? How you attempted to erase the Uchiha? I will find her, then destroy you,” Madara braced himself, and Hashirama copied. The Senju knew that the situation could potentially turn deadly.

“ _ Madara _ , all I ever wanted was to be your friend. All my sister did was love you. I have never wanted anything more than peace between us!” The red eyes were spinning.

“Then, in your  _ peace,  _ remember that I will ever be vigilant to defeat you.” 

“Come back to the village! Everything we sacrificed is here.” Hashirama motioned to the sprawl beneath him. “A future is here!” Madara sneered.

“I am the future- her future.” 

Hashirama blinked and Madara was gone. 

Hashirama could gone after him, but he knew that it would only lead to another deadlock.

 


	22. Scroll 22

**Scroll 22**

 

They had left the Land of Rain, and had been quick to go through the land of earth. Shinobi mostly ignored them, this strange neutral state of Samurai. It had been a month or so, but she had lost count of the days.

No one suspected that Sayuriama Senju, whose fame extended even here, was the young man at the table next to them making jokes. 

Sayuriama found it exceedingly strange to hear rumours in the inns, often of her, or her brothers, or the Village Hidden in the Leaves. She was happy that mostly she heard good things.

Yet, her heart still jumped when she heard  _ his  _ name. She still felt the thrill of his kisses, the touch of his arms. The moments where they’d lay down and talk, his long leg over hers, her using his arm as a cushion. 

She pushed him away, raising a hand to banish him. In a moment the memory faded, and she was back, drinking some water. Turning from the table she sighed, mumbling something about sleeping to Tsunada. The older women, who had recently become a little enamoured, was sitting by old man Michio looking red in the face.  _ Maybe _ the result of too much sake- ironic, since she had banned Sayuriama from drinking it, citing safety reasons.

She went to the room, looking at the warped metal serving as a cheap mirror. With the dirt on her face, tiredness in her eyes, she felt the dangerous desire to feel like herself again- back in her own skin. Carefully she peeled the seal off, transforming back into a girl. 

She smiled sadly at the face- her face that was warped in the metal mirror. It seemed more like an old friend then her own.

She pulled on a bathrobe, ready. 

She might be forced to be a boy, but she didn’t have to bathe like them. With her shaggy hair, her face was mostly hidden in the dim moonlight, a towel on her head. 

She slipped past the few people around the hot spring hall, looking at the signposts- marveling at what a little chakra manipulation could do, how easily people didn’t see. 

She saw the familiar sign, entered the empty exterior room, and peeled of the seal. The air was colder than in Konoha, and she rushed, careless.

She had walked in with such bluster that she had missed the lone male already in the hot spring, accidentally walking in the mens side. Kneeling, she tied her hair back, the towel falling, a shaft of moonlight hitting her skin. 

She was about to untie her robe when she heard a splash. Her head snapped up, shocked. 

There, in the water, sat a young man with thick eyebrows and a huge nose. His eyes glimmered, and his mouth fell open. It was his arm that had fallen that made the sound.

They stared at one another for a moment, but the boy suddenly got a huge grin.

“If I, the great  Ōnoki, could have foreseen this moment from my childhood, I would have thought I died and gone to heaven!” He gave a great laugh, and she jumped back, almost tripping over her own feet. 

In a moment, she had run out, leaving the boisterous, cocky young man, but she heard him stepping out, laughing.

“Wait, fair maiden, don’t run! Is this a dream?”

The ran even faster, then to her horror she saw that she was almost to a dead end. The loud, encouraging voice behind her was getting closer. Quietly, she turned, looking at a door. Opening it, she gratefully saw it was empty- she tiptoed in, shut the door, flying to the window, sliding the screen open. 

She climbed out, using chakra to walk at the strange angle- the technique she had been recently perfecting. 

She located her own room, and slipped in, floundering for a spare seal, slapping it on. With a sigh she frowned. 

_ She didn’t really want a bath anyway,  _ she lied to herself.

The next day, and a firm gender change later, Sayuriama saw the kid again. He enter the communal area and her mouth, full of ramen, fell open, making Tsunada frown in disgust. 

He was miniscule-  _ short  _ didn’t describe it. How could she have not noticed? What worried her was that the proud band of the new Village Hidden in the Rocks was on his head.

Shit- He was a Shinobi. 

He didn’t notice her, but immediately went to the side of old Michio.They clearly were familiar, which made sense since the Land of Iron was next to the Land of Rocks. 

“Hey, old man samurai!”

“If it isn’t Lord  Ōnoki? How’s your grandfather the Tsuchikage?” 

Sayuriama paled, knowing she had made a terrible mistake. She turned, stuffing her head down into her bowl of food, cheeks red.  

“Oh, old and stuff- but I have a story for you!” He leaned in, a wide smirk under his very large nose. “Last night, there was an absolutely gorgeous woman that  _ accidentally _ entered the men’s side of the hot springs.” Just for a moment, Tsunada looked at Sayuriama, who was busy pretending to the eat the noodles before her. “She was  _ gorgeous _ ! A ten! Have you happened to have seen any beautiful women around here lately? Shortish brown hair.”  

The old man smiled.

“Our new recruit, Sho, is often told he looks like a women.” Sayuriama spit out her food as the group laughed at her expense.

“Not exactly my taste- Kind of ugly.” Ōnoki said, giving her a dismissive look. Her mouth opened even wider. Tsunada pouted silently, and old Michio roared with laughter.

_ Nobody had ever called her ugly.  _

She returned, bu giving this obnoxious boy a staredown which he ignored. “but a better sight than Madara Uchiha.”

_ She froze. _

 

“What do you mean Ōnoki.” Michio’s eyes narrowed. 

“Well, a few weeks ago we went on a mission to the Leaf Village, but when we got there,  _ Madara Uchiha _ met us outside, threatening us that he would crush us if we tried to continue. Like we were a bunch of  _ vagabonds _ . Of course, I couldn’t let him get away with that, so I fought him.”

“He must not have injured you too badly.” For the first time, Ōnoki flushed red. 

“It was nothing, -”

Another shinobi, clearly friends piped up. “Only six broken ribs, a severed kidney, and a cracked skull.”

“Heh. He went easy on you.”

Sayuriama smirked as Lord Michio raised an eyebrow at the young shinobi. “But, this will still be news for you. You should turn to the Tsuchikage and let him know Madara Uchiha has renounced The Village Hidden in the Leaves.” 

The room went quiet, all the men there, travelers and merchants alike now listening in. 

“Really?” The old man nodded. Ōnoki turned, bowing to them.

“Then I should be off.” To everyone’s great surprise, jumped in the air. For a minute he floated, clearly showing off, then he soared away.

“Boy was always a show off.” Michio stated. “Doesn’t seem that bright, but he is always on the prowl.  _ But then again _ , shinobi.” He turned to Tsunada, who put on a show of being disgruntled.

Sayuriama suppressed a laugh. 

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

It wasn’t far from that point to the Land of Iron, but soon Sayuriama discovered just how cold her knew home was. She stood up wrapped in the thick cloak they she had packed for herself, and went to the horse petting it down, throwing some hot chakra to help the beast. 

Tsunada had focused much of her chakra instruction to Sayuriama on healing, and basic survival jutsu. 

Not only was it at a higher altitude but winter was nearly here. Her breath was now able to be seen with every exhale, and if Tsunada had not taught her a warmth Jutsu, she’d be freezing her fingers off. 

She was also working on the body flicker technique, and soon Michio was using her as a scapegoat to help his men try and catch her. She had to switch from using leaves to cover her up to snow. It got more frustrating for the men when she started using the body replacement technique.

It was the day they crossed the border that snow fell. 

Sayuriama loved it, and decided to go jump in a huge pile that had formed. After exiting the wet embankment, she immediately went to Tsunada, stiff as a plank.  The entire party was delayed as Tsunada checked to make sure she wouldn’t die of hypothermia. Tsunada finally broke down and taught her the body heating jutsu.

Ten more days, Sayuriama practicing heating on many of the Samurai,  and they reached the mighty fortress. Located high among the mountain range, it was called ‘The Three Wolves’. It looked like a foreboding place, gray and white, no color. Sayuriama twisted her fingers, but the other samurai were markedly happier, many returning to their families. 

The mountains were huge. They loomed large as the group approached, and Sayuriama was shocked to realize that they were not only rock, but dangerously sharp icicles that had build up over time. Thick snow was on top, treacherous to fall at the slightest wind. 

They crossed through a large gate to an entrance with several large pillars, Sayuriama noting the place was mostly carved from the thick rock, impressive seeing how smooth the walls were. 

They were entering the mildly warmer entrance, and Sayuriama was gazing at the carved figures in the entrance. She didn’t noticed the young boy who suddenly popped out of nowhere, hitting into her with full force.

“Hey fatty! Out of my way.” He exclaimed, jumping up from where he barreled her down. Tsunada had moved, as if to protect her, but Michio had caught her hand.

An armoured guard appeared from around the corner, quickly grabbing the rouge boy.

“My Lord!” The man said. The boy frowned, struggling to get free.

“Mifune!” Michio said, sounding tired. “Why must you vex my men?” The little boy shot up to look at the old man, struggling against the guard holding him.

“Because i’m vex-ing! Ha ha ha ha. Ya, whatever that means.”  He said snottily. 

Sayuriama grabbed his thick cheek, in a soft sort of revenge. “How cute!”

The boy looked at her disgusted. “Off me ya creep!” With a well aimed kick she went down, Tsunada catching her. Michio frowned.

“Mifune.” The boy sighed. 

“Ya grandpops?” 

“Three hundred laps.” The guard nodded, taking him away. Mifune screamed for mercy, and the occasional insult, as he was led away. Old man Michio sighed, turning to Tsunada and her.

“My grandson Mifune came to live here after his parents were killed in a territory squabble. He’s been difficult to deal with, so forgive him.” 

Sayuriama, her eye twinging in pain.

_ At least he had a reason. _

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

The first year was the hardest. She was moved in, met the Lord General Samurai, and started. 

 

Her breath  _ hurt.  _ Everything hurt as she looped around the field in the thick Samurai gear. Despite looking like a guy, she didn’t have the regular strength of one. Lord Michio deemed it necessary that she not use her chakra, so that she could build up real endurance.

She had a few choice words that she didn’t say as her legs trembled harshly. But she bit her lip, knowing that little Mifune was watching from one of the small windows. She would not let a snotty brat beat her in basic strength training. 

Snow continued to fall around her, her slightly longer hair soaking it in. As she finished the hundredth or so loop she stopped, looking up at the misted sky.

She missed the sun.

She missed everything.

But she  _ endured  _ when tears wouldn’t work. She was placed with a unit of men new enough to get the unfortunate business of patrolling the icy landscape. She occasionally moonlighted as one of Tsunada’s guards, but was separated from her.

She was okay with it, even though Tsunada hated it. The older woman didn’t need to see the way she silently sobbed in exhaustion every night, the way she was constantly out of chakra from healing other’s wounds. 

The only time she saw her was during their little jutsu practicing. 

Sayuriama learned the difference between being trained by someone who was going easy, and training for actual battle. She was glad they practiced with heavy wood swords, because the men had gotten much more fierce with her rising competency. With Lord Michio demanding she not use any ninja techniques, she was more beat up than usual.

Tsunada was often busy spending time with Michio. Sayuriama figured this was because the old man didn’t want to her to discourage Sayuriama from doing her best. And it was clear he had a old man crush on her.

Even her boy name, Sho, became more comfortable. Gradually she became better, practicing harder than many other men.

She defeated her first serious opponent at the end of that year.Snotty little Mifune. 

He was furious. She smirked when she saw him racing around the track the day after, glaring at the ground. 

The second year was better. Her hair grew, and she kept it at her shoulder, not wanted to look  _ too  _ much like Hashirama. She got stronger, and Michio finally let her use her chakra, albeit not on his men.

She and Mifune finally came to an accord. From teaching him about ninja, basic jutsu, he begrudgingly would sit by her during breaks, much to the shock of most of the guards. Mifune had been annoyingly difficult, but as his confidence and friendship grew, he opened up more. 

Not to mention an embarrassing moment of him discovering she was actually a women. Both would never see cabbages in quite the same way. 

Most places in the land of Iron were cold, and it wasn’t one that was dispelled with a blankets or thick clothes. This coldness seeped into the bones, and became part of the soul.

It became a blessing to be running around the yard. The training became much more ruthless, and Tsunada stepped up her vigor. She was tossed, hit, kicked, and had pretty much everything done to her. But she knew why the Samurai were being hard on her.

_ He  _ was causing trouble.

News was scarce - She only received letters once a month or so. The last letter had filled her with joy. Mito thought she may be pregnant! But the news also came with the change that her family may mention him. Never by name, but she knew when they did.

Trouble in the outer territories, angry nations threatening them- Madara Uchiha was in the details.

Knowing this accelerated her desire to fight harder. She improved greatly, and Michio was commanded by the Samurai general to give her personal training. Tsunada had finally married the old man who was now her uncle.

Mifune was  _ very  _ heated when she reminded him they were related now- he had to respect her. 

He didn’t, but they enjoyed the fighting.

The third year, she was promoted to the rank of apprentice Samurai-  She had become quick, focusing her training on speed and swordsmanship. 

When Sayuriama let her hair reached to her mid-back, she was sent out on missions. Other samurai couldn’t help but tease her on her feminine hair, the embarrassed way she avoided the girls who had formed crushes on her.

She didn’t often clash with ninja, but occasionally sneaky one would cause enough trouble to warrant a business call.  _ Two second Sho _ became a name feared by local troublemakers. 

With Lady Tsunada’s expertise in strength training, no one guessed she was once the weak, beautiful sister of Hashirama Senju. 

That year she began developing Chakra attacks- she finally was feeling a sense of  _ living.  _ The thrill of a battle, however insignificant others found it.

She was sent away often, and when she went on missions, she heard much more gossip. Very rarely, someone mentioned her, but to talk about her disappearance. It was like she had vanished, and for the most part, had been forgotten.

Part of her training had been mental preparation. 

The samurai did this by sitting outside in the freezing snow with just the barest of clothes, shorts. Focus and concentration but at her skin, but she sat, stubbornly. 

Once she learned to accept that she still loved Madara, she was able to move on. Out of the ashes she rose. As the nine-tails often told her, life was too short for dumb mistakes and regrets. 

She visited him more in the cold land, often her bruised state giving him a good reason to laugh. That was a good day, despite coming down with a cold.

The fox had been markedly happier after she had left Konoha- he had never liked Madara, and often growled at her brothers. She could feel him content inside her, often remarking on her foolishness. He often laughed when she fell, got cut, or various other injuries. 

But he was pleased when she had success learning how to bend chakra, or hurling an enemy to the ground. She  _ knew  _ the stubborn fox wasn’t as heartless as he tried to be.

 

It was an adventurous peace, and Sayuriama Senju, being truly alone,  was finally content. The only thing that broke this was  _ Madara _ . Her training, and being around so many people, had helped her understand him more, but anytimes news of him came, it brought shivers down her spine. 

It was her unfailing weakness, though her others had faded over rigorous training.

She even was able to imagine a future without him, after the first year. She knew if she kept dreaming, kept holding on, it would only kill her.

 

Sayuriama was eating when Mifune came up to her, his preteen cockiness showing.

“Hey fatty,” She had come to accept this, though she had gained anything but muscle, “You have an assignment.” She playfully hit him.

“Thanks, brat.” 

He had grown a lot, she realized. One moment, he’s a boy walking in on you bathing to throw cabbage at you, forcing you to hide your breasts with said vegetables. And now, a apt samurai student. She was good, but he’d far outpace her in the future.

“I heard you are going home soon.” He frowned and she turned to the boy, understanding him.

She patted him on the head.

“Don’t be sad, snot.” She picked up the near empty bowl, and a servant approached, taking it from her. “Where’s the old man?” The kid used his thumb to point in the general direction of the southern compound.

“Somewhere.” He was obviously upset.

Sayuriama rolled her eyes at his immaturity. Three years, and now she was the one tending brats! She knew that Mifune wouldn't give her a straight answer, so she took the sword resting on the table next to her, looped it on her belt, and moved to find Michio.

He was with Tsunada in the armory, gearing up. She bowed deeply. “Master Michio.” He gave a kind smile.

“Sho. I have an exciting mission for you- We are to visit the Lord Hokage. He has requested a visit from his lovely emissary,” Tsunada blushed as Michio motioned to her. They were such a cute couple. “And he asked me to bring his protegee as well.”

Of course, the three year period was up. A pang entered her- she missed her brothers, but her life was here now. He must have noticed her hesitance.

“It’s your choice,” Michio said. “But after you’ve reported to the Hokage, I’d like you to return here and begin training some of my new recruits.” Sayuriama ran, hugging him

Her smile lit up the room. 

“Yes- I’d be so honored!”

“Good, now Sho, prepare. We leave in one hour.” 

Sayuriama snapped to attention, bowing. 

“Yes sir!”

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara Uchiha was  _ nothing _ if not a determined man.

_ Arrogant _ , full of confidence, there was no challenge he didn’t  _ decimate  _ when presented. He was superior, and haughty for a damn good reason. The only man who had the prowess and intelligence to match him was Hashirama Senju.

He should have known Hashirama would try something like this as soon as he had threatened the village. He hadn’t precisely told him that he would be eventually be taking Sayuriama, but then Hashirama was no fool either- he  _ would do it _ .

Autocratic, he stood on one of the old Uchiha posts. He sneered at the poor state of the abandoned compound, scornful of the chipped Uchiha symbol.

The way he saw it, he was the only true Uchiha left, he disdainfully thought.

But even with all of these cool, true observations, even he was at an impasse. 

Three years passed and he hadn’t found Sayuriama Senju.

  
  


And if he didn’t find her, he knew he would never be able to rest. He had been merciless in his pursuit, but not a single person seemed to know.

The usual rumours usually had a trace of truth- she returned to the land of whirlpools, off to train at the Sound Temple. Even that she was whisked away by the Samurai in the Land of Iron.

He had followed up on all of them, especially when he discovered the Lady Tsunada had been sent to the Land of Iron. But even then there was no trace of her distinctive beauty, of the Chakra he knew so intimatly. 

For the second time, his Sharingan had lost to the intelligence of Hashirama Senju. His bitterness, the thirst, the  _ need, _ he had to once again fight all out, made his blood dance.

But that need to subdue, to end Hashirama was still dwarfed by the mystery of his sister. She held the nine tailed fox, necessary to defeat Hashirama. It seemed the secret of  _ where she was,  _ was locked away within Hashirama Senju’s immediate family. 

It couldn’t last.

A familiar falcon flew over the sky, and Hashirama held out his arm. The large bird flew swiftly, landing with perfect precision on his outstretched arm. It looked into his eyes, and Madara nodded, a smug smile on his face.

“So Lady Tsunada finally leaves neutral territory. I wonder if she can still dance.”

XXXXXXXXXX

 

The inn located in the Land of Birds was one of the most pleasant stops Sayuriama enjoyed. It was much warmer here, the snow turning into the occasional rainfall. The inn was well kept and hosted a higher cliente, and most importantly, the innkeeper was a discreet man with close ties to the Land of Iron. 

She was thrown off by how green the field before her was, and how much life there flickering away. Fireflies occasionally buzzed in the late evening air, drawn to the red paper lanterns. Hair fell down her face, tickling, and she brushed it back.

She was off duty, sitting on the jutting walkway at the back of the inn, feet bare in the grass below. Her  _ katana _ ,  _ Dendō suiryoku _ , was next to her, a special gift from Michio for her promotion to apprentice Samurai. 

Her hands were busy sharpening her  _ tantō  _ against a rock used for that purpose, but her mind was on the scene before her. 

The wind swayed in the afternoon breeze, and people passed on the bridge on the other side of the lush field, a decent sized river racing underneath. There were few ninja here, but there were huge amounts of birds that nested here. 

She hoped she wouldn’t be served anymore bird.The cuisine was rather limited to the local fare. 

She turned quickly as she her the sound of pattering feet behind her, her eyes narrowing as a sophisticated woman came into view. She was a merchant, passing through, elegant in her long dark wear- an untraditional men’s suit.

Sayuriama noticed it seemed large for her, but just gazed lightly as she approached. They had checked who else was in the inn, and it a lone women was little threat to five Samurai  _ and _ a leaf ninja. And a Samurai who moonlighted as a ninja.

She began carefully rubbing the rock against her sword as the women chose to sit a little away, looking at her. That used to make her nervous, but now, it was likely the women found her disguise attractive, or wanted to ask questions as samurai were usually rare. 

“You have beautiful hair. I noticed that when I first saw you.” So, it was the first. It was nice to know some part of her was still beautiful, despite being a male.  

Sayuriama turned to get a better look at the women. She was beautiful- dark hair and eyes, elegant white skin. If she wasn’t wandering around in this small land, Sayuriama would have guessed she was a cousin of Hayo Uchiha. 

If he had been a boy, it would have made Sayuriama’s heart beat. 

 

“Thank you. I’m Sho.”

“How appropriate a name- I’m Maro. I noticed you have a shinobi with you. Is that typical for a group of Samurai?” Sayuriama stiffened.

Tsunada had been dressed in Samurai armor, and it wouldn’t be obvious to accept another shinobi who she was. She sheathed her  _ tantō _ , skeptical of this chic women with dark eyes.

Eyes that were too vigilant for a mere traveller. Careful ones that assessed her. The prickling of a foreign chakra didn’t escape her, but she remained calm, standing.

“Forgive me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The girl pushed her hair behind her back, then put her hands out. 

“I’ve offended you. I apologize- I was just trying to get your attention.”

Sayuriama gave a sharp look to the woman, one that should have made this _Maro_ girl leave. “That is an awfully suspicious way of flirting.”

She smiled, shrugging at the accusation Sayuriama threw her way.

“I often come to this place between trips, and good looking men are rare.” Sayuriama flushed. If she wasn’t careful, this situation could go south quickly. This women was open soliciting her, likely wanting a romp or something. These type were bad news. “It’s not often a handsome Samurai is in my path.”

“I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I don’t care for romance.” The women’s dark eyes gazed into her own sharp violet ones. 

“Interesting. Could I know why I’m being rejected so quickly?” Sayuriama looked to her blade.

“It never ends well.” The women nodded, seeming to understand.

“You’ve been hurt,” She sighed, standing up. “And I can respect that.”

“Thank you.” Sayuriama stood, deciding to go back to the team in whatever direction the women didn’t take.

“Just do my one favor-” Sayuriama looked over and a pair of lips brushed her own, and deepened for a moment. 

She could feel herself go pale, bloodless. 

The women smiled smugly at the sudden heat on her cheeks, as Sayuriama had to use every ounce of self-control not start gagging. “When you decide you’re ready- Remember me.” A wink, and Sayuriama was left with little dignity, and lipstick on her face. The women walked away with such swagger it made her want to die. 

“Oh god.” The taste was in her mouth. The women had  _ tongued  _ her. In shame she picked up her stuff while trying not to throw up.

She slowly walked away, rubbing at her lips.  _ Now this is why women couldn’t be trusted,  _ she thought ironically. What a satire- if any of the other men heard, she’d be the butt of their jokes for the next month.

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Maro Uchiha, as she called herself, tried not to waste time taking her report in, but she knew Madara Uchiha was not a patient man. The last time he had been mildly irritated with her, she didn’t walk for six months. 

He wasn’t even particularly angry that time, but the bastard she was forced to deal with didn’t even pay for the healers she was forced to call to fix hsi handy work. Even if she was only half Uchiha, she still thought he would be somewhat partial to a clan member that had followed him in his exile.

She still liked the arrogant man, even if he  _ hated  _ her. Which was unfair, because the woman he was chasing was not even a touch of Uchiha. Senju, she thought, letting the bitter irony fill her. The pretty Senju princess likely hated him.

He didn’t care for any details of how Sayuriama Senju probably felt- no, Madara didn’t seem too. But she knew the man well- the man that she had loved since she was just a girl. The boy who never gave her a second glance. Maro used to supply the Uchiha clan with information when they were back in the warring days. She was much older then she portrayed herself, and often solicited men on the job. She wasn’t Uchiha enough for him to care enough to stop her from fighting in the wars.

That didn’t change the fact that if she wanted to eat, she would be forced return to the obstinate man and let him know exactly what he was facing later that day.

Most samurai were no problem, but there were a few that could potentially give him game; make him entertained. 

 

Madara had never liked the older woman, but today she knew he would find her  _ very _ chafing.  

“Don’t think, just because I don’t find you a worthy opponent,” Madara growled, “That I won’t kill you if you continue to irritate me.” 

He saw the fear in her eyes as she sauntered to him, but she soon covered it with her usually slinky nature. He no longer held back his anger. She knew that her existence, at the moment, depended on his mood. He needed her far less she need him.

“Of course, Lord Madara. It was as you suspected.” 

Madara smirked, and cracked his fists.

“There is only one person that may be interesting.” He raised an eyebrow “ A young man, mid-teens if I can guess. I could tell he had a notable amount of refined chakra. Handsome thing, kind of looks Senju, I would have had some fun if he didn’t have a stick up hi-”

“Leave.” The command was curt.

Coins hit the floor, and she was forced to pick them up before she left, looking frustrated. 

Madara went to the exit, watching her leave.

Curious.

Maro was a competent enough spy to know if woman was using a disguise, but a young man reminiscent of the Senju?

A coincidence? 

_ Possibly _

But then again, he didn’t win his titles and fame for letting coincidences pass by him by.

There were more verifiable rumours, in the Land of Rocks, that that grandbrat of the Tsuchikage had seen a mysterious beauty with the samurai. At first he thought that Hashirama would have to had been extremely careless, letting Sayuriama travel to the Land of Iron. He later learned Lady Tsunada had been sent as an emissary, and it was more suspicious. He went himself. 

But here was the problem he faced; There was not even a familiar trace of her chakra in the Land of Iron. He had  _ walked straight into the place,  _ and there was no trace of his women. 

He hadn’t desired to start a war just yet. Tsunada was unknown in her abilities, though old. He had used other avenues until it became clear he would need to use force.

_ Finally,  _ the voice inside of him answered.  _ Take revenge _

Revenge. That’s how he felt, that Hashirama had taken his women, and Tobirama had poisoned her. Why else would she stumbling at his offer when she was so clearly in love?

 

When he needed her?

 

The way he left her, the questions so late, were not memories that he enjoyed looked back at. He was too stubborn to admit it, but he may have  been unfair to her. Even if she wasn’t Uchiha,  _ was weak, silly and coy...  _

 

He still desired her. 

 

She was irreplaceable. 

The voice that was once Izuna mocking him over the village was now torturing him about Sayuriama Senju. 

This understanding came too late. She had vanished, with only threads of her hair, and the ache in his heart, as proof she existed. 

But within the group of people highly likely to know where she was, was the Lady Tsunada. Whether his intuition or a sense of impending madness, he wouldn’t be stopped.

Madara went to the wall, and grabbed his giant Gunbai. 

He was racing towards the Inn, the night wind whipping his black man behind him. His armourless outfit blended in the black.  

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama was with most of Samurai in the main room of the inn, eating when the door slammed open. The Samurai were on their feet in moments, and she even quicker. Michio was the only one left in his seat, and the old man placed his tea down calmly.

Ryou, was pale, white and a snow capped mountain. Sayuriama’s hand went to her sword when she saw his experienced faced. 

Michio stood.

“What is it?” Ryou’s eyes were wide, and his voice shook.

“He’s.... oh god,  _ Madara Uchiha _ .” He pointed at the north of the inn. “He demands we hand over Lady Tsunada, or he’ll come in and he said  _ He’ll play with us until he’s bored. _ ”

Sayuriama’s ears suddenly went silent. She could see the man continuing to babble, his muddled mind. She dropped the bowl or rice she was eating, but no one noticed. The room started to spin, her vision blurring, breathing getting hard. She was suddenly sweating hard, her arms throbbing as a screaming entered her ears. A paralyzing stillness swept through her, making her immobile, but as twitching. Salty blood filled her mouth, and she realized she had bit her tongue. Her body shifted forward, her gut clenched as if she would throw up. 

She soft hand landed on her back. She looked up to the Samurai who she considered a father. Michio smiled.

“Stay calm everyone.”

Most of the crew started to tremble, but old man Michio peacefully walked forward, leaving her.

“Empty the place. If it him, he won’t hesitate to destroy them as well.” 

“It couldn’t be.” Youta said, went forward, putting his own hand on Sayuriama’s stiff shoulder. “How do you know it’s him?”

Ryou went even paler, then went to his knees. “He had the sharingan- he used it on Moou ...” The man’s collapse was all the answer they needed.

Michio was at the door in seconds.

“We are on a diplomatic mission and he dares threaten our neutral embassy-” He turned to her. “Sho, take Lady Tsunada to the next point, far enough away to avoid any backlash. Youta, get all the people in here out. Shiko, run to the Tsuchikage. The rest, I want your first priority to make sure this place is empty.”

Youta began to run, but Sayuriama couldn’t move. Michio was going on a suicide mission, her emotions were surging. It took Michio coming up to her,  _ slapping _ her, to snap out of her fear. 

“But, sir-”

Michio looked at her, then grabbed her, hugging her. He whispered in her ear. “Sayuriama, you promised to serve our nation, and listen to your master.” He let her go, and with surprising speed exited towards Madara. Sayuriama stopped her tears, and turned, running to Tsunada’s room. 

Tsunada was already in gear, but as Sayuriama went to open the window, she stood her ground.” 

“ I am not going leave my husband.”

“I can’t let you stay. I promised to protect you.” Tsunada smiled at the boyish voice that hid her Ward. 

“How the world changes. But,  _ Sho _ , you know why he is after me- Trying to run won’t solve the problem. The only thing I can do is distract him long enough to let you go.” Sayuriama clenched her fists. “He knows about the Nine-Tails.”

Sayuriama stopped once again.

“ _ What _ ?” Her voice pathetically weak.

“Hashirama told me that Madara had known since he took away the seal that limited your ability to train.”

Sparks swam before her, and Sayuriama stumbling, Tsunada grabbing onto the girl.  _ Her soul seized. _

This was her fault.

All of Madara’s actions, all his words had been a carefully concealed decision he had done to corner her. She had escaped, with a price. Her breathing became shallow, and the walls closed in.

Tsunada saw her pupils dilate, and ran forward, catching the young women.

He had been after the tailed beast inside her.

 

Inside, she heard the beast riotously laughing, the echo filling her ears. 

Tsunada put her hand her the girl’s heart, forcing chakra in her blood stream to keep her awake.

 

“This entire time...” Sayuriama’s voice was far away but she saw the tear falling down Tsunada’s face.

The old woman helped the girl to the window.

“No more lies Sayuriama. Now you know who Madara Uchiha is-  _ A man who will do anything for power.” _

 

Sayuriama held her beloved mentors shoulder, looking into her brown eyes. Madara could have her past, her respect, even her heart and soul, forever.

He couldn’t have the nine tails. 

“We’ll... We’ll kill him- together.” Tsunada frowned, but her years of training didn’t fail her. She shook her head. 

“No. All of this, time, effort, everything will be in vain if he finds you.”

“My life isn’t worth it.” Tsunada grabbed her, giving a soft smile.

“You are more precious to me than all the lives in this world. If not me think of your brothers.” 

She did.

“If not for you, remember you are the precious jinchuuriki of the nine-tails.”

Sayuriama went pale.

“I...”

“Do it for your brothers, for Mito. For her child that deserves to meet you.” Sayuriama was sobbing now but Tsunada held her up. “There are things worth sacrificing for!” 

But, how could it end like this? 

Tsunada pushed her as there as a sudden force seemed to hit the building, sending them sprawling. “ _ NOW! _ ”

She pushed the girl out of the window, and Sayuriama landed on her back, staring straight into the night sky. The stars were bright.

 

The building shuttered before her, and she hazily stood, unbalanced, still in shock.

Her run to the forest began with her limping, but as she slowly gained her thought process back, she got faster.

_ Fear ruled her, and it made her sick to know he was the cause, the weakness in her knees. _

_ Run _

_ Oh god, run _

 

At the tree line she stumbled, knees hitting the ground. She blinked trying to make sense of the fire that was now consuming the inn that had been so comforting to her. Part of the burning complex, collapsed and the rest seemed to sway dangerously.

Two distant figures stood, black against red. She could  _ feel  _ him, and from the growl inside, she knew the nine-tails was not pleased. With her hesitance. He had been laughing, encouraging her fears. 

_ RUN _

Now he sounded angry, fearful.

She knew the fox was right. Her saving herself was far more important than she had ever wanted. Madara Uchiha had nothing good planned for her, and she  _ would  _ receive a brutal death at his hands- an extraction of the tailed beasts was said to rival the worst pain. 

Her hands shook in rage. How could he do this, and get away with it?

Another distant ran forward, yelling.  _ Go to hell. _ She recognized Tsunada. There was a quick movement of his fan, and  _ Tsunada _ fell back, an arch of dark liquid spraying out.

She  _ screamed,  _ and only managed to muffling the sound by biting her arm till blood was pouring down it, and after, she threw up.

 

He made it look so easy, to kill everything she loved.

 

_ Madara... _

Her rise was uneasy, and the fire had grown more. There was more clanging, but she shut it out, shut her entire soul out until she felt nothing anymore.

He would take her life if she went back...

 

_ But she would be damned if she ran away. _

 

She ran back towards the inferno, taking off the heavy armour, feeling the fire scorch her clothes. There was no point in the armour. Her mind finally came back when she locked away her heart.

She was calm when she made her decision, tearing the bottom of her long shirt so she could cover her face in the smoke with it. She needed time before Madara would recognize through the disguise, and purposely grabbed hot ash, rubbing it on her hair and face, grimacing.

He wouldn’t be fooled if he used his really Sharingan, but maybe she could delay him long enough to save Tsunada.

She approached out of sight, scaling the the walls, her chakra slightly wild. She ran along the top, avoiding the flames as best she could, occasionally breaking the wood she stepped on.

Reaching a spot she could see from, she took her  _ tantō  _ blade from its sheath. Another movement and she had retrieved an exploding tag from her pack, slipping it on the blade. As she got to the edge she braced her foot against the wooden outpost.

Then she jumped.

Simultaneously she threw the tag, moving in a position to look for Tsunada’s body. Time seemed to slow as she watched  _ him _ notice the tag, moving too quick for her to follow. 

Sayuriama forced chakra to her feet, giving her enough time to grab the body of Tsunada, pulling her back to the field.

_ Faster- _

It was just a moment before she ran back in, locating Michio. He was motionless, by the entrance of the compound, the flames licking around him.

Careless she flung herself into the fire, enough chakra to send both rolling to the opposite field. She was grateful for the mask as they rolled through thick smoke. It would have taken a real punch out of her if she hadn’t wrapped her face. 

She opened her eyes, knowing that the next attack would be quick. She was right, as she felt metal against her neck. Her eyes opened, narrow enough to see him.

It was a great relief to see he didn’t bother putting his sharingan on for her.

 

“Interest moves for a samurai. But I’m intrigued-  _ get up _ . I want to see you dance.” 

 

That was kind of him, knowing she was clearly not his equal, to give a warning. She could feel the ash in her hair, on her mask and making her look like a grey ghost. 

_ He hadn’t noticed yet. _

The sickle grazed her cheek as she jumped back. She gained her footing, hand on her blade. 

Before her  _ he  _ stood, elegant and terrifying as ever. Sayuriama realized that she had never truly  _ feared  _ him, until now. 

He was the equal to her brother, a demon clad in black. The knew the dark tumbling hair, longer than ever before and even more wild; the kingly demeanor of a conqueror. His eyebrow was raised in a mocking look.

She didn’t know men could look like that- the malicious smile, as he were a god, the God of War and Death. 

“I said  _ up _ .”

She got on her feet shakily.

“All that talk about the elegance of Samurai,” He said challengingly, “And this is what they turn to in their hour of need?”

She didn’t dare meet his eyes. 

 

“I would rather live a  _ powerless  _ Samurai live, then a powerful Uchiha one. ” Madara smirked, and she noted the sarcasm. His left eye was covered by his ebony hair, but she saw the other eyebrow raise in humor. His eyes  _ gleamed. _

“Heh. What a  _ courageous _ young man. But you are young, and do not realize how unfair the world is. ”

She stood raised her sword, unsheathed in a second.

“How power is  _ everything. _ ” 

He was then behind her, giving her no time to turn. He slashed through her back just enough, as if giving her a lesson. Sayuriama gritted her teeth as she flew forward, going into a roll.

“You’re doing a poor job at showing me your power.” She said. In the corner of her eye she saw the other Samurai. She sensed that Madara knew they were, there, but he didn’ care. Why would he need to?

Madara smiled.

“I commend your spirit, if not your intelligence,” Madara said, conceding. He was just playing with her at this point, “You’re not dislikeable.” 

Sayuriama rolled pulling her sword out, a flash. Madara countered, forced to take a step back. He was quick to retaliate, drawing a long sickle out of nowhere.

There was crash, and she jumped back as Madara stepped on another explosive tag she had laid down when she rolled. He was quick, avoiding it, and their blades met again. She was inches from him, struggling as he easily pushed her back. Sweat started down her face, compared to the smooth calm he exuded. She wondered why he wasn’t using any jutsu. Maybe he felt it was beneath him facing an opponent outmatched. 

Still, his Taijutsu was more than sufficient to outmatch her three rigorous years of Samurai training.

She would have to do it. 

She knew the seal had to be taken off. It limited, and messed with her chakra- as Tsunada had told her. She needed to take him away, so the samurai could save Tsunada and Michio.

Which means she needed to trade places with Madara, to use  _ that jutsu _ , to distract him. 

He swung in his sickle again, and this time, she felt her leg go weak. 

After a moment, shooting pain, then her leg collapsed, and she fell to the ground. She turned, reaching for the sword, feeling the mask fall off. She was exposed- she  _ willed _ the ash had covered her sufficiently to hide her a bit more. Her leg hurt, blood pouring.

She let out a strangled gasp of air as his sickle was placed before her throat.

“You’re not  _ terrible- _ .If you were trained better as a ninja, you might have given me more fun. Give a few years, and you might be an excellent swordsman.” Sayuriama was breathing heavily, but Madara didn’t have a scratch, still looking sleek in his all black outfit. He had undone the top buttons on his tall collar, likely to get a good look at her.

She slowly moved an arm to her leg, feigning more pain then she felt. Madara pressed the sickle down, and Sayuriama felt her heart beat. 

“Perhaps, I won’t kill you. If you can tell me what I want to know.” His souless black eyes were gleaming in the dark, and he put his gloved hand to rest on his hip, raising the sickle. “ _ I seek Sayuriama Senju _ .”

Her heart went quiet.

 

Sayuriama lowered her head. 

_ “Can a falcon show mercy on it’s prey?”  _

Her fingers went to the seal on her chest, peeling it off. Madara jumped back, and she took her chance. She saw his eyes immediately turn red. She closed her eyes, grabbing for her katana. 

“ _ Lightning Style- thunder charge slash.”  _

There was a huge charge that scored the ground, creating an instant death to those in it’s path. She didn’t know where Madara went, but she turned, dropping the sword. Looking down she saw her hand was burned. But she gritted her teeth, she let go, forming hand seals. 

“ _ Water Style: Water Wall.” _

The water from the nearby river raised, creating a wall which she pushed to extinguish the raging fire that had devoured so much. She once again went to her knees, then into the dirt, hot steam hiding her for a moment. 

She was exhausted, in agonizing pain, and she let herself fall forward,  _ finally.  _ She saw shadows carrying Tsunada and Michio away, and she smiled. Even the screaming of the nine-tails faded, face in the dirt.

 

She saw darkness before her, his elegant figure kneeling. Yes, he was  _ terrifying.  _ “You don’t make things easy for me, do you.” She felt a glove on her back.

 

_ Never. _

 

She closed her eyes, unconscious.

  
  


XXXXXXXXXX

 

Madara was quick on the uptake, picking her up.

FIre burned his arms, and he gently let go, still close enough to see, in detail, a thick red miasma formed over the figure. She jerked, rising, standing, and Madara could  _ see _ the chakra of the nine-tails spilling over her, no Sharingan needed. Translucent bubbles of red chakra cloaked her entirely, only the smallest layer still letting him she her face

Covering his face, he jumped forward, grabbing into the girl again, but boils erupted on where his hands had no covering, and he had to release her before the burns deepened. 

“ _ Heh. I should have guessed you’d come out to play. _ ” He said, and the girl raised her head to him “So Nine-Tails, do you want to dance as well?”

She turned, on all fours, glaring at him with slitted eyes. A long red tail appeared, the sound of bubbling growing. She growled, her voice superimposed with another.

“Madara Uchiha.”

He braced himself, forming handsigns, to make his burned hand heal quicker.  

 

She jumped forward, him jumping to the side. He felt his clothes rip as the chakra tore threw a sleeve. He grit his teeth. With a hand sign his gunbai appeared again. With a giant swing his fan created a huge gust, catching the creature and flinging it bac. However, it caught it’s footing neatly, landing neatly. 

 

The form turned back, and to his surprise he saw the chakra form into what seemed like a tail. He gave a laugh. Of course. The thing opened it’s mouth, a huge ball of dark chakra forming. Madara braced himself, the monster throwing it forward. The dark chakra came flying at him, and swung his fan.

 

“ _ Uchiha Return!”   _ The Gunbai shook as the ball was redirected back. The fox jumped, and the chakra exploded behind them, erupting a field into flames. 

 

The ground shook as the beast rose its head, almost another tail appearing, and the red chakra concealing Sayuriama’s face.

 

Madara narrowed his eyes. He’d have to use a  _ Fuinjutsu  _ technique on it the beast, or else the chakra would burn her to death. He would have loved to extend the battle, as fighting jinchuuriki was altogether too rare, but it would have to wait for a more appropriate puppet.

. He ran forward, and the fox mirroring him. 

 

A the last moment he activated his mangekyo sharingan, a thick barrier of his chakra creating a powerful humanoid form of chakra.

 

“I will  _ chain you beast.” _

 

The fox charged, not longer resembling the girl. His Susanoo reached out, grabbing the form that was now struggling in his chakras. Another tail formed, and with a shock, he was thrown back.

“Ah, so your strength increases as you grow tails, and I assume you can go up to nine- but likely your  _ jinchuriki _ will die long before that..“ Madara narrowed his eyes. “I can’t have that happen.” His Sharingan turned, and he rushed the beast.

 

His eyes flashed, casting a genjutsu over the beast.

 

“ _ Tsukuyomi.” _

 

_ The beast stopped, letting the  _  world spin,

 

Madara grabbed at the chakra, ignoring the biting pain and blisters to place a hand on the back of the bast. . 

 

“ _ Sealing Technique: Iron Armour Seal.”  _

 

The fox flailed giant iron chains formed, breaking out of his genjutsu all too quickly. But it was too late for it to fight back. Within a few moments the Red miasma faded, the fox fading to reveal the woman underneath.

The glowing red persisted, but, finally the miasma dissipated, rushing back inside of the seal. Madara turned, breathing hard, eyes finding the girl.

  
  


The body of Sayuriama lay in the mud. 

He ran over, picking her up, tilting her badly burned face towards him. He leaned down, lightly brushing his lips over hers.

 

The fields were still burning in the morning, but Madara was long gone.

  
  



	23. Scroll 23

**Scroll 23**

 

She jumped out of sleep, blood fresh on her memory. It was pitch black wherever she was, and she took a deep breath.

 

_ Her head pounded angrily.  _ Fire, destruction- death. 

 

Those who she cared for slaughtered by a dark reaper cutting down all in his path. 

 

The blanket fell from her shoulders as she sprung up, and Sayuriama took a several more quick breaths to steady herself. As she raised her arms she felt pain. Faint burns dotted them, and as she looked around, she realized her entire body had somehow been burned. But the burns didn’t look fresh, but more like they were months old. What had happened?

How long had she been asleep?  _ More important; Where was she? _

 

She didn’t think a dead woman would still have pain. 

 

Last she remembered, she had been face first in thickly churned mud. The details were vague- but she remembered fear. 

 

The fear that had almost consumed her. 

  
  
  
  


His face clicked into place. A chill went down her spine, remembering the sinister presence he had been. No doubt, he had decimated her in the battle.

 

Yes _ , there had been a fight _ \- She had fought  _ Madara Uchiha _ . 

 

And he had destroyed her, his power so great that it must of been like swatting a fly. The shame of it was overwhelming. All that time and training, yet she was still but a child. Still having others far greater sacrifice themselves.

 

She had been so foolish, letting her bravado, her desire to save her companions, force her to not complete the mission she had been given. She begged that her witless actions had saved a few of the samurai

_ Tsunada- _

  
  


She rose, forcing herself to her feet. The burns stung, but they were more bearable. 

 

In the darkness, she scoped the place out. Without seeing felt felt the small, sparsely furnished, space. 

Half wood, the other part was half cave, and the transition between them was stark, she felt. There was no other furniture besides the bed, and she pressed her hand, going around the room. The cave had been smoothed down and the wood was lacquered, and would likely be gleaming. She stumbled on the slick wood, but managed to make it to the end. With a touch, she felt several thick layers of curtains that covered 

 

It was a beautiful afternoon, the bright sun beaming down into the thick green forested woods below. She was in some sort of mountain outpost.There was no glass, and for a moment her heart jumped.

As she tried to reach out, her fingers touched something. She narrowed her eyes, pressing her hands against the invisible barrier that likely enclosed the entire area. Trapped.

 

So it wouldn’t be that easy. Not that she thought it would, but even he had to make the occasional mistake. 

 

She opened the windows a bit more, and moved to sit on the ledge, trying to figure out if the seal was one she could figure out. 

 

“So you’ve awakened.” 

 

Ice in her blood, but she didn’t turn. Her fingers pressed hard against the barrier, willing it to obey her.

 

She heard his steps, a courtesy notice from a man who knew how to kill a man with less then a sound. 

 

She gave a grim smile. Was he trying to put her at ease? 

 

She already knew he would kill her at some point. Why the bravado? Why didn’t he just extract the beast and finish her, like he meant too all along? He was a cruel man to delay the inevitable outcome. 

 

A strand of her singed hair was lifted. She didn’t move, determined that he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of a reaction. 

 

“Heh. You play the part of the haughty princess well.” His hand moved down, touching a bare shoulder. And automatically she tensed as she felt fingers trace down to her back. The two garments she wore were simple, a wrap for her chest, and shortened, thin kimono pants her lower extremities, reaching to her knee. 

 

She had never been so underdressed before a man. Mifune had  _ accidentally _ walked in on her bathing, but this was so different it would be a farce to compare the two.

 

Her treacherous heart speed up as his hand reached her lower back, teasing her pants, then back up to rest on her waist. “Lie down  _ little bird _ .” She did feel weak, but wouldn’t give him the pleasure of letting him boss her. He pushed her gently to turn. She braced her stance, but his grip was insanely strong, making her feet slide across the floor.

 

In defeat she began walking, head held arrogantly away from him. 

 

As she got to the back, she lay down turning her head into the pillow. His weight dipped on the edge of the bed, close, a blanket coming over her. Tears teased her eyes, falling off her lashes.

 

“Do you find my face that distasteful?” A hand on her back.

 

She could feel his patience wearing thin, the words clear he would win this fight- it was his weakness, she noted. He always had to win, and never thought this would end.

 

She wondered how it would feel to be Hashirama, likely the only person to match such an ambition.

 

She slapped the hand away.

 

“Don’t touch me.” She sneered.

 

She was determined to not see the expression he would wear, too just win this one fight from this conceited man.

 

He didn’t seem to pay attention to her words. I gently, dare she imagine, touch grazed her arms, and slowly fingers pressed into painful flesh. She turned to  _ scream  _ at him, be but the sudden sharp feel of chakra fell over the arm. Relief made her gasp out a puff of breath, and she knew he was smirking. 

After he let go, she moved her hand to touch the area. The area from her lower shoulder to elbow was silky smooth.

 

He had healed her.

 

“If I don’t help you, my dear, who will?” Instead of frustrated, he sounded amused. “A beauty as yourself shouldn’t be in such dangerous situations.” She gritted her teeth. How dare he. He was the only threat she had faced. He knew perfectly well  _ he  _ was a dangerous situation.

 

But she didn’t have the words to tell him that. So she didn’t, and for awhile things were quiet. The weight at the edge of her bed left. She heard his steps, leaving. 

 

“ _ Heh. Cling to my generosity _ .”

 

When she dared look, he was gone.  

  
  


XXXXXXXXXX

The samurai, Youta, stumbled through the forest, running full speed. His clothes had been ravaged, armour tossed away, and his older body was straining, but he kept running.

_ Stupid  _ STUPID girl. 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama had eventually fallen asleep again, this time not being woken by her dreams. A strong hand gently cupped her face, and she woke as chakra was poured onto her face, smoothing over the burn marks. 

She froze up as she saw Madara above her, only lit by the candle in his other hand. She felt her body start seizing up, but Madara grabbed her face before she could turn it. She gazed at his eyes, seeing red, and flashing black shapes moving. 

She immediately went calm, and he released her, letting her head fall back into the pillow, her violet eyes finally upon him. 

“Heh.”

“What did you do.” She said, heart even. She was finally looking at him, and he gave the barest of smiles, dark hair over his right eye. Shadows flickered, and he put the candle down on a desk, likely being placed while she was asleep. She glared, wondering what else he had done while she slept.  

Not to mention, how her burns had been disappearing. How she even  _ got _ burns in the first place. 

Her saw her eyes flicker to the burns, her thoughts on her face.  _ He smirked.  _

“Ah.” She kept her face straight, emotionless. “So you don’t remember.”

She shifted her eyes down, his dark ones full of snide humor. A strand of his black hair fell over one eye. 

“I remember you attacking my comrades,” He gave a dry laugh “ _ my friends _ .” He leaned back on the bed, face full of burgeoning humor.

“After all I’ve done? I’ve watched you, fed you,made sure you were clean.” He saw the disgusted face she made.

“With a little feminine help. After all, you met Maro Uchiha, didn’t you?” Her face went white in the thin light.

“Cleaning up  _ after the nine-tails  _ for you. What would your  _ comrades  _ thought if the charming young man they knew was actually Sayuriama Senju, jinchuuriki of the nine-tailed beast? Do you think they would have been so eager to accept you?” 

She couldn’t breath. Oh god. Kurama.  _ She lost control.  _ The flame of the fire created strange shapes from the shadow his Madara’s wild mane. The threat of what he could do was thick in the air, and the only question left was when he would destroy her.

“How low you have fallen, Lord Uchiha. To threaten a neutral convoy, and the Samurai, for my whereabouts? All of this in an attempt to take the nine-tails? By all means, extract the beast if you think you can handle him.  _ It would be better to die- than spend another minutes next to you _ .”

She was surprised when he flung his head black, and started rightly laughing.

“Sayuriama Senju. You have never failed to entertain me.” A sarcastic brow went up, and she raised her head.

“Why..?” He put his hand on her shoulder. 

“You think I did all that for simply for the nine-tails?” She flickered her gaze down, biting her lip. 

It must have been incredible funny for Madara continued to laugh. 

“Waste all my time and effort?” She stared on, confused, and he patted her face. “Oh,  _ little  _ Sayuriama.”

She gritted her teeth.  

“You really think I hate you, don’t you.” 

“I wouldn’t presume, Lord Uchiha. But  _ I hate you.” _

 

He stopped, face suddenly cold. 

“Is that right?”

She stiffened as he laid down next to her, one of his arms finding it’s way behind her head. Her face went redder as he grabbed one of her hands, and stroking began stroking a finger. She closed her hands into fists.

“Even if your very body betrays you, you would try and lie to me?”

She pulled her hand back, turning away. He stayed beside her as she sat up, but he put a hand on her shoulder. He sat up, mirroring her movements to sit behind her. 

She felt his chin rest on her shoulder, giving her goosebumps. 

“Why would you, pretty Sayuriama?” She bit her lip as he said her name, folding her arms closely to herself. She felt his fingers on her skin, and realized that he hadn’t bothered putting gloves on. For the first time, she felt his actual hands- and it make her skin boil.

_ It was only a partial lie. _

Those gloveless hands were so warm, and she involuntarily closed her eyes. Being this close was so hard, a temptation to turn, to pretend he cared. Why was this so difficult? There was no way he didn’t know what he did to her. She hadn’t realized that he had gotten so close until she felt his breath on her neck.

“Beg me for more, little Sayuriama.  _ Tell me  _ that you want me.” A dry chuckle.

 

She almost succumbed to his taunts, the hot kisses he began to press on her sensitive neck, before she  _ remembered _ . She jerked forward, leaving the bed. Her knees wobbled, and she went to the ground. She looked up at him, reclining casually at her sad attempt to leave him.

 

The fire returned.  

 

“Is that what you say to your mistresses?” She quietly insinuated, “Before you murdered them?”  

 

It would have been less appaling if he hadn’t once again smirked, barely showing through his ebony hair.

 

“It the lovely Sayuriama  _ jealous _ ?”

 

She jumped, punching at him. 

He easily dodged, catching the hand. Leaning back, they rolled, he taking her with him. Flipping, he sat solidly on top of her, still chuckling. She was shaking with anger, arms pinned above her head with one hand .

“I despise you.” The screaming continued until he adjusted his grip and put the other hand over her mouth. She bit at it, but he didn’t budge. His lips didn’t exactly smile, but the expression was not one she expected.

 

“Such an intelligent women as you, believing such nonsense? Tell me, who made such a report to you?  _ Sayuriama _ ,” His voice was tender next to her ear. She hated how he still could make her heart beat. “I’ll  _ kill  _ them for such slander.”

She grimaced, but her eyes flickered down.

“Tobirama was always anxious to incite rage against me. I can see he did his job well.”

She didn’t answer his accusation.

“You attacked my companions, threaten my family and attack my village.  _ Your words are poison. _ ” She contemptuously stated. “I wouldn’t trust you to tell the truth.”

He sat up, balancing on her hips, a finger to her lips. Her arms were now free, him raising a hand to his hair, hips heavily perched on hers.  

“Trust?”

She shivered at his tone.

“I can see there is no point in trying to reason with you at the moment _. _ ”

He activated his Sharingan, and she screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to she knocked out again, subject to his every whim. 

“NO! I won’t let you just  _ do  _ what you want!” She started squirming, and she felt him adjust slightly, letting her breath. “I am  _ not  _ a child. You can’t push me around.”

“Well then, let’s talk like adults.” She gritted her teeth laid those red eyes on her again, making her feel exposed. “Or you can sleep, perhaps until you’re  _ happier _ to speak.” 

She, with precision, hit the chakra point on his neck. 

“ _ Fuck you.” _

In a moment her arms were restrained, again, and for the first time Madara looked pained and was holding one of his ungloved hands to his neck. The other hand her wrists again.

“Heh. Child indeed.”

“Don’t lecture me.” She hissed.  Madara looked at her, once again chuckling. He settled in, making it harder to breath.

“You surprise me. How did you manage to learn such a trick.”

“The constant threat of you coming back was was enough to encourage me.”

“No doubt you were a diligent student to the samurai. They were lucky to have you for so long.”

“They were more faithful than you. I am indebted to them.”

“You know, little bird, your brother thought me leaving would only lead to sadness-” Madara gave a dark laugh. Sayuriama flexed her legs, ready to kick. “So tell me, is that how I make you mine once again? It seems as if you only give your time to those who indebt your services”

She didn’t say anything.

“After all, I did save you. Damage from the nine-tails wasn’t a simple task to heal, so in a way, you owe your life to me- if you hadn’t already. You were mine the moment I decided so.” 

She threw a kick meant for his back, but his other hand flew down. His Sharingan gazed over the seal that had been loosened over time, the angry that chakra was pulsing through her. The paths he thought were broken had just been previously lacking enough chakra to use. He could feel the malevolence of the nine-tails, bubbling like lava in her. A danger. 

But the nine-tails didn’t completely consume her, when he had the chance. Madara smirked- This girl was a source of weakness, even to a tailed-beast.

“How clever. No one would ever expect it either, except I. No wonder Hashirama mandated the Land or Iron to stay untouched by ninja. And here I was thinking it was another sentimental move of his to bring peace.”

She was having a difficult time breathing, his weight shifting to her chest.

“ _ Why have you been looking for me? _ ” She gave in. “For the Nine-tails?”

His face became serious, his dark lips thinned at the look her gave her. I long finger ran down her face. 

“I want to make a deal with you.” 

She looked to the side, then back. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“Marry me.” He leaned down, his black hair brushing her face. The look he had was all consuming. “You need a man who can back up your beauty. A man who can dedicate himself to you, with the knowledge that no man would dare take you.”

“What an eloquent proposal.” She said, laying the irony on thick. “But I decline.”

She had some nerve.

It was quick, but he was off her, and standing on the stone floor in a moment. The change was so quick that it made her take a deep breath. 

“Don’t test my patience, Sayuriama  _ Senju _ . I’ve become less willing to deal with such an attitude over the years. Your long absence has made me weary of diplomacy.”

“And I assume you're being so kind because you love me-” She was attempting to be sardonic, but nothing shook the victorious look he had at her words. She sat up, feeling the burns still covering her legs. 

“A sentimental motive, but I digress. I am a man, after all.” His jaw tightened painfully.

“Rather emotionless words. Why in the world, after kidnapping me, and threatening my friends, would you ever believe I would accept this. I’d sooner marry a dog.” He chuckled.

“I think I can sway you to my side.” She wrinkled her nose. 

“Try me.”

“I’ll stop my conquest against The Village Hidden in the Leaves,” Her mouth got dry. “I’ll let your brother play his little game.”

“What?”

“Ah, but if you refuse, I’ll take you anyway. Make you a slave to my every whim, and then take the nine-tails and kill everyone you love. Then destroy the Leaf village so thoroughly it will be known as a desolate barren wasteland, like before.” He arched a thin eyebrow, smirking at the plan he knew would tempt her.

But this was no  _ deal _ , this was blackmail at it’s finest. 

“And I have no choice but to go on. How  _ agreeable _ .” 

He chuckled at her tone.

“A wiser,” He stretched, a satisfied look coming over his face,“and more lucrative path.”

“My brothers will find me.” She said quietly, eyes gazing straight into his, confident. “Then Hashirama will kill you.” He stopped cold. 

“Heh. Perhaps. But for now, don’t worry about it.” His hand went around her neck, squeezing lightly. “And don’t ever mention his name to me again.”

He turned his heel, somehow exiting the cage he had created just for her. Besides, if he touched her again, there was no telling what he might do.

  
  


XXXXXXXXXX

 

Hashirama Senju was sitting at the Hokage’s desk, a small baby on his lap giggling at him when he felt the first threads of chakra come rushing to him. He stood as a ragged Samurai he faintly recognized entered the room. His heart dropped.

“What wrong?”

He looked exhausted, but only had two words before he collapsed.

“Madara Uchiha.”

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama didn’t see Madara for the rest of the week. But every time she woke her room was continuously filled with more items. Gilding the cage, all while her hurts  _ mysteriously _ disappeared in the lonely prison that was hers. Had she not been accustomed to long periods of loneliness by the Samurai she would have gone mad. Even so, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to escape while she was in the place. 

No one would find her.

As she battled with the decision he had made to her she focused on other things.  Now that she was compelled to behave herself, a new desk appeared complete with silky paper, books, and smooth brushes. Black ink and tatami floor mats, with tea that was the perfect temperature when she poured it. 

Somehow he managed to create a new alcove while she was asleep, and the next day she found one of her scrolls hanging above a porcelain vase. Flowers were common, as were books. A large mirror graced the wall, showing her the tired face she wore, seared, elbow length hair, rough at the edges. 

It bothered her that he would create a pleasant place for her, never appearing, but citing that it was because he wanted her. He never said love.

She had a hard time believing that he wasn’t simple setting up a trap to cause her more pain when he finally decided to end her. Madara liked to play with his food. His affections seemed more of a ploy than a plea.

Friday, a large tub full of steaming water and various combs. Clearly, he thought she needed a bath

He seemed to be doing his best to woo her, even though  _ he was the one who took everything she ever wanted _ . 

All that was left to decide is if she trusted that Madara Uchiha would keep his side of the ultimatum. 

Trust, again, she noted with a thrust of emotion pain.

 

Where life had reached a strange limbo, the decision became imminent on the day she woke up laying on a different futon, this one twice as large. 

She knew what that meant. Especially when she saw the white clothes folded on the dresser. An  _ Uchikake,  _ emblazoned with golden Uchiha fans _.  _ Instead of a white headdress, there was a flower crown, brimming with white blooms.

It was time. 

She was in front if the desk, dark hair gleaming in a bun, supple body wrapped in the fresh white kimono. The book in front of her was some tactics from a war general or something. The words glazed before her eyes, and she heard him the second he entered. 

She looked to her side as he walked forward, smooth and sleek in the traditional black. She felt a weight on her head- the flower crown. She turned, wondering how he could be so handsome and despicable at the same time. He was so tall and regal that she almost let herself admire him, this despicable man. His angular chin framed by ebony hair.

Instead she stood, face turned down.

He grabbed her around the waist, and then they seemed to twist. Reality turned, and she felt dizzy, clenching her eyes shut. 

Her stomach heaved, and then it was over. She would have gone to her knees if Madara hadn’t had a firm grip on her. Instead she slumped over, and she felt him put a hand to her back. 

“Don’t act  _ too _ excited.” He drawled. She bit her lip, forcing herself up. Madara turned and snapped orders at the man that had appeared before them.

Before her was an altar with a skinny old man, looking extremely nervous. They were in the middle of a forest, derelict but for the giant red arch above them. The priest looked at her, staring, but Madara stepped forward, and she knew he would be no help.

With Madara’s hand firmly against her back she was forced forward into a small cushion. 

The priest went through the traditional motions. Purification and so on. Then, on the table that held the small altar, the priest placed three cups. Sayuriama felt the strong desire to turn, and throw one into Madara’s handsome face, but relented, calmly drinking from the three stacked cups, her family on her mind. 

With her face turned forward, she didn’t dare look at the man at her side. The face of the priest said enough when it was done. The man stared at her face, only stopping when Madara slammed a hand on the table in front of him.

She felt numb as she raised her hands, unenthusiastically copying the clapping motion that finished it. 

How she had wished for this- And now, how she wished she could just disappear into the earth.

The priest held out a document, and Sayuriama felt her stomach drop. There had been some hope that if the was only one witness, it wouldn’t be binding. The priest unrolled the scroll, careful to not rip or tarnish any part. She gazed over a part that looked like a summoning contract. 

If she signed it he could know where she was at any time, and summon her. Anger filled her as the numb wore off.  _ How dare he.  _

“Bastard.” She muttered as the priest finished.

“Now be good, little bird.”

She turned to Madara, but he gave a smile that made her want to kick him. She brought her hand to her mouth, biting down. Blood flowed, and she put the finger down, and he did the same. After, he grabbed her hand, and she felt chakra flow through it.

Then Madara turned to her, his large hand lacing through hers, with a movement they were off. 

 

He nearly had to drag her down the path, into the forest. 

 

He didn’t bother looking at the furious girl, knowing her anger. She would settle, like she always did. His little bird chirped loudly, but she loved him. She was attracted to power, glory, the thrill of the fight- him.

“I commend you for your silent defiance. Such  _ poise _ . What a wife I have.” She didn’t find the situation funny and she gritted her teeth.

“How dare you.”

The continued on the path, hand in hand. Once in awhile one of Madara’s long fingers stroked her hand, reminding her how he  _ owned _ her. A life for a village.

They approached a stream, and Madara lifted her. Sayuriama lost her breath as her face went against his neck, strong arms around her. He walked over it, and she expected him to put her down when they crossed, but he continued. He must of known she was about to kick up a fuss, and he looked down on her.

“Just let me have this.”

The closer he was, the harder it was to think. She thoughtlessly laid her head down, tired of the constant stress, watching her back. It was too much. 

He was pleased as she wordlessly accepted it. 

It must have been midday because as they walked among the tall trees, evening came. The leaves fluttered gracefully, creating a pleasant afternoon. It was like a strange dream, being held so lovingly under a warm descending sun. Madara continued on in the evening, like they were meant to continue forever as lost lovers. 

It was wonderful, she thought to her dismay. 

The peace was broken as a twig snapped under his feet. Another warning, she realized, when she opened her eyes. Before them was an small home, a tiny thing, lit dimly in the dark night. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably as they silently went forward, entering. 

The home was deserted, but Sayuriama noted that it was spotless, and there was food on the table. On cue, her stomach rumbled. Madara chuckled, crossing the threshold to let her down. She stumbled to the food, white kimono making soft sounds across the floor.

Madara turned, placing a hand against the wall. Sayuriama didn’t see the black marks that hid and provided another barrier over the entire place. They disappeared, and then Madara watched as his bride examined the food, then picked it up. He smirked as she chose t he  inarizushi, taking a bite of the food. He sat, watching as she took another, then starting filling a porcelain plate with various foods. 

She stopped when she saw him watch her.

“Uh...aren’t you going to eat?” He rested his chin on his hand, giving her a small, genuine smile. One that caught her off her guard, made her heart wild.

Her dark hair fluttered as she mindlessly handed over her plate to him. He smiled. She was still so  _ kind _ . He accepted the gracious gesture, taking the plate. “Heh. Little Sayuriama.”

She sat opposite of him, more delicately consuming the new plate of food she served for herself. Once again she was quiet, emotions battling. She hated and loved this man. It was unfair for her to be forced into this, 

_ But she didn’t hate it, _ her treacherous heart whispered.  _ No, she wasn’t totally opposed to this Dark eyed man, handsome and powerful, desiring her. It made her feel beautiful, wanted, in a way no other could. _

How infuriating, she mused, as she raised her chopsticks up to eat some rice she dived on her plate. She continued to pick at the food, hardly realizing how long Madara had been watching her. He reached out, taking it from her, and scaring her a bit. 

“Wait- I was eating!” He raised a long eyebrow, the crease under his eye becoming sharp, gaze forward. 

“My patience is ending.” 

He rose, and she realised he was undoing the long sash holding his dark kimono together. In a moment the sides parted, showing a long sliver of hard smooth chest, light scars across the area. She jerked back, turning to the side to face away. Her face went rosey, and she began to crawl over to the food table. 

His hand grabbed her ankle, pulling her back over the slick floor. She gave a less than dignified shriek as he pulled her to him, standing up with her over his shoulder. Leaving the large room he slid open the door to the other part of the home. 

As he turned to close it there was a large futon on the floor, blankets folded at the end. 

Her stomach squirmed-going to be sick. Her head felt fuzzy as he dumped her on the mattress. In a moment his robe was gone, leaving a long stretch of white Uchiha skin, ending in a v shape at the kimono pants. His entire chest was chiseled, as was his hips, hands resting on his dark pants. Her breath was struggling.

Her heart beat even harder at the exposed flesh. 

She turned away at the sight of revealed skin, feeling out of place and overwhelmed. 

This,  _ this  _ wasn’t something she could do. Even with him being totally exposed, she was the one that felt uncovered. She looked at everything else in the bare room- anything to distract. The tatami mats, the wood paneled walls. The Uchiha fan was painted on the wall left of her, and she kept her eyes trained on it. 

She was an Uchiha now, she realized with a start. The paint was chipped, old, but the fan still retained its elegant shape on the wall. 

A witness to her mortification.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, then, cool air where he slipped the kimono off. Without thinking she pulled it back up, hasty to be modest again.

Then with a sharp move her entire kimono fell to her waist, ripped, her white chest open to the air. Madara held a kunai, which he tossed to the side. The thunk was loud, and he gave her a long simmering look as he began to pull his pants down-

She went crimson, putting her hands over her chest, tightly restraining her breast.  _ She would not give him the pleasure of seeing her so vulnerable. The tears building in her eyes. _

Until he grabbed her face, forcing her head to turn. She could have looked down but- Oh god  _ why  _ he was so naked. Her fingers trembled as he touched her.

“St..stop. Please.”  

To his credit, he did for a moment, eyes full of something she didn’t dare guess.

“Sayuriama.” She lifted opened her eyes at the soft tone.

But he was back in a moment, gentle pushing her back, but she still started to breath hard, eyes averted, body shaking. Her arms attempting to cover her chest. Tears began to form, running down her face. Her hair came undone as she fell to her knees.

“I haven’t even done anything.” Madara said, a little teasing in his voice, kneeling before her. “Why are you so terrified?”

She couldn’t answer, just began to sob.

He put a hand to her face. “Sayuriama Uchiha.” His arms were around her, drawing her into his chest, fingers curled into her dark hair. “Look at me.” Madara said softly. His tone was so  _ caring  _ it was almost not him. She looked up, his face inches from hers.

“Look at my face.” His eyes were dark, but this close, she could see his black pupils, the soul inside the monster. She relaxed, slowly being encouraged by the hand stroking her hair. “I adore you.” 

Her heart broke.

He kissed her, and she shut her eyes, letting the tears run down. Slowly, he put his hot mouth over hers, surprising her by the gentle manner. Slowly he kissed her until she finally stopped crying, laying her down on the bed.

“I will be gentle.  _ Let me love you _ .”

And she finally gave in, as he spread her legs.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

The familiar room was before him, but the fox faced away.

“Nine-tails.” The beast didn’t answer, but Madara saw his ear flick. “What a poor temperament.” At the word the giant fox tilted his head.

“ _ Human _ .” Madara knew he was angry. The previous defeat must burn at the tailed beast, but he wanted to know  _ why exactly  _ the fox didn’t totally consume the girl when he broke the seal. The beast had saved the girl, letting himself be sealed back into her. 

“I have a que-” The fox laughed, making the room shake.

“I know what you  _ desire _ Uchiha.”

“Heh. What a condescending  _ prisoner _ .” The fox bristled, standing to face the small human.

“I was foolish enough to offer the girl a second chance, to use my own power, and she failed to kill you. Next time, and we both know there will be a next time, I will  _ end  _ you. Even if I have to kill the girl- You think it would bother me?”

Madara felt the truth the fox spoke. He smirked at the insinuation.

“Unless, perhaps, something were to happen.”

The Nine-tails eyes widened, then it’s large mouth opened, a huge laugh coming from the depths.

“In your own petty conquest, you would risk even that? By all means, entertain me.”

With a flourish, the fox turned. It was clear nothing more would budge him, and Madara turned.

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Hashirama was sitting at the edge of the cliff overlooking the village, pondering better times. Madara had said he loved this village. Had revealed that he loved Sayuriama. And he had kept his word. The samurai envoy had been decimated, Lady Tsunada and Lord Michio in poor condition.

Tobirama had demanded to search for Madara himself, but Hashirama had refused to let him do such a thing. It would be dangerous when Sayuriama was his prisoner. Eventually, Madara would show himself, make the first more.

But would it be of reconciliation, his sister as his wife? Or would it be with the Nine-tails?

How could it come to this?

A guard came running behind him.

“Lord Hashirama.” He turned. The poor guard was sweating.

“What is it?”

“We have traced Lord Madara to the furthest sector east! A priest said he spotted him there!” 

Hashirama stood.

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama woke to a uncomfortable pain between her legs. She lifted herself, and to her surprise, she was back in the original home Madara created for her. 

It had been a relentless week after the wedding. After waking from the first night Madara had gently claimed her body. He increased his fervor- she was aching, her lower body bruised from the fervent love making. 

He had been there,conversing with his gentle smile, helping her bathe, eat, and dress. She had never seen him so content, smiling easily, loving at her with such open devotion. Yes, he seemed to...adored her. Eager to touch her, and even more excited when she touched him back. 

Pleased when he pleasured her.

When she had fallen alseep last night he had been particularly through and by the time he was done, she was exhausted, knowing she’d be feeling it the next day. But she was confident it had been at the ‘honeymoon’ house.

Now she was ‘home’, and still feeling the rebuttal of Madara’s passions. 

She winced as she lifted herself out of bed to the warm water- a thoughtful gesture. She could see steam rise, and she bit her lip. A hot, somewhat embarrassed feeling went through her body at the thoughts of what had happened.He  _ had _ seduced her, much to her embarrassment, using her body like an instrument only he knew how to play. 

She lowered herself in the water, grimacing at the heat. She felt tender, strange. The world wasn’t different, but she felt  _ bizarre. _

She sunk deep into the water, hoping the her head would clear. 

 

A sudden splash of her made her jump, but a hand on her back kept her from jumping out of the water. Her face went red as she turned to the owner of the hand, and he pulled her back to sit on him. Madara’s long legs were too much for the tub, and Sayuriama almost laughed at his face of discomfort.

But she opened her mouth in horror when she saw his chest, saw the red leaking into the water. Large lesions covered the area- partially healed. Automatically she put her hands to his chest, and to her surprise, her chakra glowed, patching him up.

“Heh. A Senju indeed.” Sayuriama lifted her hands, and Madara put his hand on her side, leaning her back. “The Senju have better excellent healing chakra. You are quiet a woman, aren’t you.”

She flushed red.

XXXXXXXXXX

The next day she was reading when after another long bath. Her used towel was resting on the desk, and she cleaned herself tenderly, before opening the drawers and looking at various clothes. 

A simple blue  _ yukata  _ with the Uchiha symbol on the back, and a bowl of rice later and she was feel more much more normal. 

She felt the presence, turning to face it. A tall woman...  _ Maro Uchiha,  _ she now knew, was standing at the back of the cave. She stared at the girl, an unfriendly smile on her face.

“Sayuriama...  _ Uchiha is it?”  _ Sayuriama stood, hand grasping on the book she had been reading, ready to throw the novel at the intruder. As if she knew, the woman raised a hand, stopping her. “I liked you better as a boy.”

Sayuriama gave a snide smile. “Maro Uchiha. I suppose I have you to thank for my return as a woman.” The woman shrugged.

“I think there are better things you could thank me for.” Sayuriama raised an eyebrow. “I’m not supposed to come here when you’re awake.”

“Why have you come then? To take me away?” She couldn’t help let the irony fill her bitter voice, letting the boring book she had been reading fall.

“Better yet. I wish for revenge on Madara Uchiha.”

Sayuriama went cold.

“I won’t be tricked. You may as well leave.” Maro suddenly braced, throwing a book at her face. Sayuriama caught it, much to her disappointment.

“Better than I expected.” She smirked. “It seems as though he’s convinced you that he cares- it that it?” Sayuriama went pale. “Did he tell you where he is now?  _ Did he tell you he’s fighting Hashirama Senju?”  _

The book she had given her dropped, making Maro Uchiha’s malevolent smile widen.

“Did you really think he would change for you? Do you really think you’re anything special? NO- your not even a real Uchiha, nor even a Senju. You are worthless, only your face to make you infamous. He may have  _ given you the benefit of calling you his wife  _ but don’t mistake what you truly are to him-”

Sayuriama clenched her fist. “Stop it-”

“A glorified whore, who he took to twist the knife in the Senju clan. He is using you to avenge the death of his brother, the betrayal of his clan.”

Sayuriama charged the woman, who pulled out a kunai, making her jump back. 

“Don’t mistake the fact that he took you as anything more. Ah, you’re upset! Did he tell you he loved you?” Sayuriama picked up the book and flung it at her.

Accomplished, the woman disappeared.

“You are just a woman he is currently protecting, so later he can  _ use you _ .” 

The book hit the wall behind where the woman vanished from, and Sayuriama slumped to the floor.

  
  


Hours later, she moved, grabbing the book she had left.

There was no title on the leather cover, and she turned to the first page.  _ Tailed Beast Extraction _ .

She could feel her heart beat fast. It had been left half open, pages bent to indicate where it had last been read. There in vivid detail was a picture detailing the extraction process, and the next page, transfering the beast to a new jinchuriki. Notes filled the sides, detailing ways that this could be accomplished with the least amount of risk to the people involved. Looking at the next page, she stopped, dropping the book.

There was a detailed process of how it could be done with the fewest risks

Below the lines spelled out her fate.

_ A jinchuuriki has never, and likely could never, survive this process.   _

Underneath, in familiar handwriting, he had noted one word:

_ Yet.  _

  
  
  


He had lied to her. 

 

She kneeled, and holding the book. Tears fell down her face as she fell to the floor, in anguish.  

XXXXXXXXX

Sending the message was easy, but Madara mused on the more difficult part of his plan. He had avoided meeting Hashirama, as promised.

 

As he transported himself into her room, he smiled as he readied himself to see his wife. He did smirk at the pleasant truth.  _ Wife,  _ eh? It was a good title for her. She had enough time to pamper herself, and they needed to move soon.

It was with a shock he felt pain sting his shoulder, the sound of ripping. Reaching back he felt the wood splinter in his back. Turning he saw Sayuriama, lovely as ever, carefully stepping back with a large wooden chunk in her hand, a book in another. She looked to the desk, noting the devastation she had caused.

“How  _ dare  _ you.” She hissed, the Uchiha kimono fluttering around her. He gripped the wood, then with a flash he pulled it out of his shoulder. With a grunt he tossed it to the floor. “You’re a  _ liar, aren’t you Lord Uchiha.”  _

 

She braced herself, holding hard the other splinter she had.

Sayuriama tossed the book at him, but he caught it easily. He had been careless, he realized, in his choice of help. In his haste to catch Leaf Shinobi- he let his princess have too much time, to assume too much.

He would be forced to kill Maro Uchiha, that was certain.

He narrowed his eyes at his wife. There was no place for such insubordination from her either. He would  _ teach  _ her how he felt about her, what he had given for her. 

All he had sacrificed, she would have to learn the hard way. 

He narrowed his eyes and he saw her fear, knowing that she could  _ feel  _ the anger he now felt, the chakra expended. She was much faster, much better on her feet, as he came forward. 

It was not enough.

She lowered her guard, just a moment, to breathe. He used that second to slam her to the ground, forcing the wood out of her hand. He spread her out using just one arm to hold both of hers. 

“I can understand your feelings,  _ but you _ should know better than to say such nonsense to me. You will obey your husband.”

“You’re no  _ husband _ . You’ll always be second place to Hashirama and Tobirama- especially in my heart.  _ I am nothing but a tailed beast to you. _ ”

The air was ice, his chakra death itself.

“Heh.” He looked a dangerous mix of amused and furious. 

Then with his free hand, he used his hand to slash her kimono open. She struggled relentlessly, but his sheer power was too much, and could only watch him disgust.

He looked at the stomach, his fingers bringing the dark sealing marks to gleam vividly, the ones he hadn’t paid attention in his earlier ministration. But now, he would have to prove to her that his affections weren’t based on the fiction.

As he looked to her face, she spat in his face. That earned her a slap in return. She went light headed, breathing hard, head hurting from hitting the ground and the smart pain of his slap. 

“Now be quiet,  _ my bird _ .” She didn’t want to cry, but tears came anyway. “I will show you to whom you belong.”

He continued to remove the clothing, holding her down. 

“Stop!” She was in a furious state, still struggling against him.

“Don’t be so weak.” She screamed, but his hand went over her mouth. “This is what you promised, isn’t it? Save your precious brothers now!” He mocked her, grabbing her throat in one hand, watching her choke.

 

He didn’t have much time, but he would teach her.

 


	24. Scroll 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Last chapter! Let me know how it went- 
> 
> Question! Did you have a favorite part of person? What did you like, or wish you had seen?
> 
>  
> 
> The second part is coming soon.

 

**Scroll 24**

 

Pain. That’s all she could feel. After the initial kidnapping she had thought he would use her to bargain with Hashirama. 

How wrong she had been. He had always been after vengeance- fury at the senju clan he couldn’t reconcile. Affection for her that he couldn’t bear.

He hated to love her.

And he was going to make them all pay.

 

Madara had started with her. The rage of her refusal had cut him to the core, hurt him. She didn’t know how much he had loved her. He had shown her, by showing what that his love could be contorted into.

He violated her, repeatedly. He was careful not to not only destroy her emotionally, but he made her a witness of her own shame as he chipped away at her resistance, taking his pleasure as a monster. 

She knew, even in those moments, how much she cared for him,  _ because it tore her apart _ . 

After, he had taken his pleasure, he firmly grabbed her, keeping close to him, in the same bed, not letting her do anything but feel him, relive the pain he caused her. As he took his sleep on top of her, the was no escape. She was terrified that it would begin again if she woke him.

The gentle man was gone. 

No, the tailed beast was no monster, compared to this man. She must have fainted at one point, because she was awoken in the morning by him grabbing her. Any defiance and he threatened her with a relapse of the pain. He was menacing, sneering, tall and broad in his thick red armour that he wore so elegantly.

Yes, even now, she admired the man who would kill her. 

She was ashamed of her weak resistance, but she did as he commanded, dressing in the garments he laid out. The shirt revealed her stomach and the ninja shorts were also too small. After looking at her, sneering, he tossed a too light kimono at her, mocking.

Then, he had tossed her over his shoulder, and began running. The world whipped by, and she did her best to not throw up. Tears came again as her body jostled in pain. 

 

She heard the fox inside. 

 

As the sun came up, he tossed her to the ground, and she rolled before just laying there, sore and exhausted. The area was a fairly common sight. Distant enough from any village he could do as he pleased, but close enough to Konoha to get Hashirama’s attention. The only distinctive thing there was was a large river, with giant rocks.

She was set on the ground, whimpering. 

“Bitch.” She saw his leather clad feet approach. She curled up in a ball. 

 

He would take this path to his own bitter end.

 

As he grabbed her arm, she knew this was the end. 

She started screaming for Hashirama, Tobirama, until he raised his hand to slap her again, pain making her dazed. It only paused her for a moment.

She kicked out, screaming. 

 

But he pulled her up by her chin, looking into her eyes as she gritted her teeth. His the gleaming red of the Sharingan. 

“ _ No Crying _ .”

Her voice stopped, and she could feel herself go limp. Now she couldn’t move unless he commanded. 

He moved her to the river, tying her up to the large rocks. She didn’t have the strength to fight the genjutsu. He let go of the jutsu when he finished and she almost had time to beg him as removed the seal. 

“Madara-”

“ _ Quiet _ .”

As the seal on her stomach opened, carefully revealing the gate of the nine tails, and a different anguish began.

“ _ Argh.”  _ She tried to not scream, tried to say something- black chains appeared around the air, pinning her body up to the stone face, over the water.

 

Her chakra pulsed.

 

The fox felt it weaken, and began screaming, making her torment was complete.

 

Madara stepped forward as her breathing got heavy, the screaming began again. His eyes were red, unforgiving.

“It’s unfortunate you hadn’t been more patient.” She grimaced, teeth biting, the red miasma of the nine-tails glowing over her. “Hashirama would have been closer to finding us. Now the task of healing you will be much more difficult. As soon as we rid you off this beast, he will heal you.” She was crying now, her voice had been used. So that was it. He found her unstable, and thought this would solve it. “Then I will take back the village, and you shall know of my sincerity.”

_ This stupid man- _

_ Her Madara _

 

Even in her pain she spoke, gritting her teeth. Now she knew she was a dead woman, she would not be silent

“They shun because they fear. They  _ fear _ because men like you have taught them to fear power. You can not win. If you  _ take the nine-tails from me,  _ I will die-”

“Nonsense. Hashirama’s more than capable to heal anything he touches. Then you  _ will _ love me, and only me, for I will have freed you.” She shook, pain coming again. “I have done what no other dared.”

“Can you not  _ hear _ ?” She screamed. “I am going to die. Then you will be alone, forever. ”

Madara looked at her, passively. 

“There can be no happiness for us while you have that menace locked away. I will create a world for you, without the nine-tails and your brothers aren’t badgering us at every step. You will only have me.”

He couldn’t hear reason anymore. Her stomach started to churn, skin peeling open. 

“You will be my murderer.” She said weakly, staring him down. “This will not bring Izuna back. He is gone, and I will be as well.”

 

“I will not fight with you.” Madara roared, the sudden appearance of his Gunbai creating a huge indentation in the earth beneath it.

 

She realized he didn’t want to look at her; didn’t want to see her pain.

 

“Your love is fickle, unless it becomes  _ indebted _ .”

 

“And yours is masked by your own inability to forgive yourself. You hide your pain, and it makes you  _ weak _ .” She managed to hiss.

 

He didn’t answer her, but diverted the question. “Hashirama is coming.” Madara turned to her, and activated his mangekyo sharingan. 

 

“ _ Coward _ .” Her breath was stalling, weak. He turned back, long black as night hair masking his sharp, cruel face. He made not the slightest expression of weakness. “ _ But I still love you.” _

 

Her mouth widened, and the dark gaping hole opened in her stomach, the red enclosing over her completely.

 

Sayuriama saw red.

 

XXXXXXXX

 

She found herself in that tall hall, the Fox looking at her, malice on it’s features. 

 

“Kurama.” She looked to the beast, feeling the blood rush out of her. She walked past the marks. The fox made no move, as there was no point. He would be free soon enough.

 

_ Maybe because humans only have one life, is why they waste it so foolishly _

 

“He is going to kill you.” The fox carefully put out a paw, and carefully, pulled the kneeling girl to him. 

“Yes.  _ You, _ always so clever, were trying to warn me, but I-” The giant beast, so large, was so incredible gentle as he put down his large muzzle. He was a kit again, lonely for his father. 

“You talk too much.” There was blood on her face now, symbols of seals racing up and down her. 

 

“I’m s..sorry.” Tears escaped, running down her face. “I thought I could change him.”

“Don’t be.”

“I fear for my brothers.”

“Don’t worry for them. They deserve the pain they’ve caused.” The girl had a look he had come to know. “Especially the Uchiha.”

“You never liked him.” The fox had to concede to her point, and Sayuri wrapped her arms around his paw.

“Heh. He was never good enough for you.” He growled and she laughed. Kurama was happy that at least she could still find humor. He could at least giver her that. “And his chakra smells like piss.”

“Silly fox.”

“He thought himself to be as a god, rather than the human he is. He will regret this day.” The smell of blood was thick now, and the fox was all too aware the amount covering her. 

“I know you’ll regenerate, but please, don’t go after him. Or Konoha.” He felt her squeeze tighter, and felt the Chakra running it. What had been an ocean was now a trickle. It would not be long. He could feel the pull, the regeneration that would occur in him. 

“You ask much, little princess. Even if you have been a good jinchuuriki.”

“I wish I could convince you to not be angry, but live in happiness.” The fox felt that her choosing that path may have been what brought them to this point, but who was he to say such things? She was already a dead women talking. 

“I’ll keep your memory of happiness.” She sighed, then her body gave a twitch. 

“Thank...you...” Her eyes got wide, soft. Her head slowly fell back, stomach finally releasing him.

 

She coughed and blood came out, before her eyes became dull. 

 

Then all the nine-tails knew was red eyes.  

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Sayuriama’s body shook violently, covered in the burning red miasma of the nine-tails. Then the seal on her stomach finally opened, and the nine-tailed was expelled like a thick mucus.  He roared, bursts of chakra streamed, finally forming into a giant beast whose height matches the huge cliffs. 

Madara immediately forced the fox away, into a different area, to deal with later. But it took time, as the beast was enormously powerful. He watched as the girl bent over, chains releashing, falling into the water below. Blood streamed into the water, her head facedown. 

 

Madara rushed forward.

  
  


He had to jump back, sickle out.

  
  


Hashirama was seconds late, seconds that would haunt him till his death.

 

He kneeled in silence, his armour wet with perspiration, scratches from branches across every part of him. 

A tear hit the forehead of the girl he was holding- thick tears that flowed down his face, hitting hers.

He held her carefully, gently, making sure the wet ground couldn’t touch any part of her body. Her lifeless body.

 

She was dead. 

 

Tobirama stood behind him, silent as death. The rain that had been so diligent petered out, leaving the muddy ground. 

 

Finally Hashirama sat up, the wet girl still held tightly in his arms.

Across the field Madara  _ screamed _ . 

“What are you waiting for?” The words hit against Hashirama, who didn’t look up once from Sayuriama face. “Hashirama! HEAL HER!”

 

“Madara-  _ What have you done _ . _ ”  _ He finally said, his eyes looking up at the man he had considered a brother. 

Madara visibly stopped. 

“You  _ BASTARD _ !” Tobirama’s fierce hatred seethingly. If Hashirama hadn’t charged him with looking after Mito, he would have already charged him. Something black and hard festered in his chest, never to leave.

 

Hashirama stood. 

 

Pain, grief, loss, all things they had known. This grief was not the only emotion tearing at them, but it was the final blow that would seal the fates of all present. 

Madara threw a barrage of accusations to the Senju, but none pierced Hashirama. Madara could not change what was truth by sheer willpower.

He had killed the women he loved. 

Hashirama didn’t acknowledge the cries of his opponent, the taunts, but continued to calmly walk back to Tobirama, his face white with rage. Hashirama carefully handed the body over, cautious of the stomach that had been torn at the release of the nine-tails. 

Mito looked on with horror at the lifeless violet eyes. 

“Leave.” Hashirama said, with a look in his eyes that Mito would fear to see again. One that promised Tobirama that he would finish this.

 

They didn’t need encouraging.

 

Hashirama had finally broke, his desire to remain friends with Madara Uchiha finally departed into nothing. Hashirama could finally see what was inside Madara Uchiha. 

There would be no repenting. 

As Hashirama turned, he made the covenant that Madara Uchiha, his oldest friend, could not see the next morning. 

  
  


Madara, arrogant and proud- unrepentant- faced Hashirama.

 

Then his heart, finding that last tender piece of love he had reserved  _ for her _ , crushed it till it was nothing but dust. 

His fury grew, the black curse of the Uchiha consuming him at last. 

  
  


XXXXXXXXXXX

  
  


The body of Sayuriama lay motionless on a metal table, Tobirama sitting, holding her cold hand. He hadn’t let go once.

His eyes were empty. They had been beyond indignant when the nurses they called discovered she had been violated. 

If Hashirama didn’t kill Madara Uchiha, _ he swore that he would _ , or at least desecrate his dead body. The indignity of it burned his soul.

He then dressed his sister in a lovely kimono, and laid her out.

His other hand clenched, hitting the side of the table he laid her on, thinking with his head down. 

Mito had returned to Hashirama and while he was here with the nurses.

 

It had all failed. 

Everything about this village was a total sham, pointless, if he couldn’t protect his very sister- He let out a sob no one heards.

_ Why Sayuriama? _

  
  


Tobirama looked later up as Mito re-entered, looking extraordinarily worn, grief stricken as she looked at the girl. “What happened?”

“We... Madara is gone. Hashirama is resting.” Mito said, and Tobirama looked relieved, “And we’ve re-sealed the nine-tails.” Tobirama looked to her, tightening his grip on Sayuriama’s hand.

“Then you were victorious.” Mito nodded. “Did he finish it?” She looked down to the body, tears filling her eyes.

“Yes.” Tobirama narrowed his eyes.

“How do you mean?”

“Madara Uchiha is dead.” Tobirama sneered, promising to find the body and utterly destroy it when Hashirama returned. She just gave him a solemn look as he continued, “Where is the nine-tails?”

“I am the new jinchuriki.” Tobirama looked shocked, standing back.

“Mito, why?” 

“Because it’s the least I could do to honor her memory. I will bear the tailed beast, to keep it safe.”

“Noble, Mito.” He smiled, and she gave a small frown. For a while they stood, until Mito finally put her hand, almost touching her face. She moved it to her hair.

“How can it end like this?” She said softly.

Tobirama squeezed the cold hand.

“It won’t.”

They heard fast steps, and Hashirama appeared in the door. Tobirama’s mouth opened slightly at the torn armour. He had never seen Hashirama breath so hard, look so defeated. The battle must have been terrible, because the look in Hashirama eyes was so determined

Mito put her hand on his chest as he walked forward, but he nodded her off. As soon as he reached her, he went to the floor on his knees.

 

Tears falling down, he held her.

 

“Sayuriama. Forgive me.”

 

Both Tobirama and Mito put a hand on his shoulders.

The quiet group knelt at the table, listening to the sound of Hashirama Senju, God of Ninja, sobbing.

  
  
  
  



End file.
